What are you suppose to think?
He always wrote things on his wrist. Not on his hand or on a slip of paper, it was always on his wrist.
Lavi noticed the way he always did this, and the way his thumb would run along the veins of his wrists with out him even noticing. He would laugh, carry on a conversation, the whole time not realising that his thumb was running up and down his arm. Occasionally he would bend his thumb, and his nail would dig lightly into his fleshy, and then bend back and start running the pad of his thumb up and down his arm again. He never noticed that he did it, and he never noticed that Lavi noticed, that Allen liked pressing things to his wrist.
He was constantly doing it. When he opened his locker he would run his arm down the edge of it. In H.P.E he would would winde the jump rope around his arm a few times before using it to warm up. The same in music, he would wrap guitar strings around his wrist and leave them on all lesson. During Chemistry he was constantly dropping beakers and phials, always managing to cut a finger or two when he went to clean it up. In English he would run the edge of his ruler from the tip of his finger down, down, down to the crook of his arm and then back up again. Of course at lunch his thumb would rub at his wrist while he talked with his other friends.
The things Allen were beginning to say were strange too. At lunch breaks the other kids would exchanging pointless facts, stupid things like, on average women dream more than men, apparently pigs couldn't look up, as it turns out the Yo-Yo was originally a hunting tool, and then Allen came out with.
"Did you know the largest cause of death in males between the ages of fourteen to twenty-five is suicide?"
Yet no one noticed, and it was beginning to drive Lavi insane.
How could no one be seeing this? How was it not annoying the crap out of everyone like it was him?
It went on for weeks, months even, and the bandaids around his fingers increased. Yet still, no one seemed to notice. It irritated Lavi, he didn't know what annoyed him more. The incessant movements Allen would make, or that no one noticed a fucking thing.
In the end he had to talk to someone about it, but who?
He picked Lenalee to talk to. She had changed a bit in the last year but she always had a sympathetic ear. Or at least she use to.
"He's just doing it for attention," she said simply.
"What?" Lavi gapped.
She didn't bother responding to him as she was already too busy getting her tonsils assaulted. She changed so easily, a swift hit to the side of the head with hormones and a boyfriend and she was someone else. Now she didn't seem to care about anything other than the appearance she created. It was all there, look at me I have a boyfriend, we're having sex, the both of us are cooler than you.
Lavi thought that maybe if he told her then not only would he have someone to talk about Allen with, maybe she's snap out of it. Maybe she would think about someone who use to mean a lot to her.
All he succeeded in doing was spreading rumours about Allen around the school.
And that's when things got really bad.
Students would taunt him, shove him, call him emo. Laugh at him, seclude him, throw scissors and knives at him. They'd throw eye liner and make up at him, tell him he needed to look the part.
He withdrew himself and instead of sitting with the usual group at lunch, he would sit behind the hall or out the front of the school. It was when he constantly started wearing long sleeve shirts that Lavi finally had enough. He had a reputation, every one in high school did and Lavi had a good one. He was cool, with his eye patch and his head band, everyone wanted to know him or be with him. He knew spending time with Allen would ruin that for him, but he had to make a decision.
He had known Allen since the sixth grade, he could easily call him a good friend. He had to wonder if he was a good enough friend to effectively sever ties with everyone he knew.
When he saw those tiny red droplets soak through Allen's white shirt, he made that decision. Fuck all these people he thought he knew, they were just fleeting friends, people he knew for a few short years. Once high school was done at the end of the year, he would never see most of them again. But, Allen… Allen was someone he would want to see again, so he said good bye to popularity and went to find Allen.
He found him sitting behind the hall, his back press so hard against the wall that he looked like he just wanted to disappear into it. He was smoking too, numerous crumpled butts pressed into the ground beside him. Lavi didn't know he smoked but it looked like it was a new thing. Every time he raised his shaky hand and took a draw, his face would screw up in disgust and he would suppress a cough. There was a packet of the things sitting beside him, and Lavi walked up, sat down beside him and lit one up, even though he had never had a smoke in his life.
Instant addiction.
"Hey, Allen."
"H-hey, Lavi, what's new?" Allen asked, refusing to look at him.
"Not much, you?"
"Same old."
He took a drag and stubbed the cigarette out on the ground, immediately lighting another one up with a shaky hand.
"Give us your hand for a second," Lavi said, perching his cigarette in his mouth, scrunching up one eye from the smoke.
"What for?" Allen asked, finally looking at him, but with apprehension.
"I want to read your palm."
"Read my palm?"
"Yeah, I've been reading this book, now hand over your hand."
He was a little hesitant at first, but slowly his hand came over to hover in from of him. Lavi cupped the hand lightly in his own, squinting his eyes as if scrutinising the hand. When he felt Allen relax a little, he grabbed his sleeve and pushed it up passed his elbow. He grabbed Allen's hand tightly when he tried to pull it away, his other hand keeping his sleeve pushed up.
"Have an accident did you?" Lavi asked, looking down at the four inch long bandages that wound around Allen's wrist.
"Y-Yeah, an accident, I fell over and, scrapped a rock," Allen stuttered.
"Really," Lavi said with a raised eye brow, dropping his hand.
He reached over and grabbed Allen's other hand, pushing the sleeve up as well. His other arm was also wrapped it bandages, but all the way up to his elbow.
"What's your excuse this time? Did you trip over twice?"
Allen remained silent but ripped his hand out of Lavi's grip. He snuffed out his cigarette that was only half done, and lit up another one.
"Why're you doing this, Allen?"
"Why not, they all thinking I'm doing it anyway, so why hold myself back anymore?"
"Why're you really doing it?"
"I don't know…"
"Don't give me that shit!" Lavi yelled, feeling himself getting too emotional.
"I don't know, I really don't!" Allen yelled, taking a few heavy draws from him smoke, " I don't know why I feel this way! I have no reason to! I've got a great life, my father loves me, I'm doing well in school. I have friends… had friends, so.. s-so I don't know why I want to do this. I hate it, I hate it so much and I hate myself."
He gritted his teeth and slapped his hand to his head, and then started to beat his wrist to his head.
"There's something wrong with me, Lavi," he said, continuing to bash his head.
"Stop that!" Lavi yelled, grabbing his wrist and pulling it down.
"I d-dont know why, but for a long time, I've just wanted to dig into my flesh. I get these… really dark thoughts and, I just want to cut myself. I'm constantly thinking about it, and what's the point any more? I didn't want anyone to know, but they all think I'm doing it, all talk about me, so why the fuck not right?"
Lavi's hand was still wrapped tightly around Allen's wrist. He pried his fingers away from his wrist and slipped it down to link their hands, trying to comfort him.
"Lavi," Allen said, his voice quaking, "I cried in the shower the other night for two hours. I didn't just cry, I sobbed, and, wailed, and, and, I don't know why! There's no reason!"
He felt drained, his body slumping and falling to the side, his head came to rest on Lavi's shoulder.
"There is something wrong with me, Lavi, and I hate it. I feel selfish, I have no reason at all."
"Have you thought about talking to someone? The school counsellor?"
"Why the fuck would I want to tell some stranger that there is nothing wrong?!" Allen spat, stubbing out yet another cigarette.
Lavi noticed that his own cigarette had burned down to the filter. He turned and flicked it away before turning back to Allen who was shaking badly while trying to light another cigarette. Lavi snatched it out of his hand and threw it away.
"Why not, talk to me? I'll listen.. okay?" Lavi said, barely louder than a whisper.
"No, I don't want to talk to you," Allen said coldly.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want you to have to go through this. I don't want them to shun you too. Remember, just a few weeks ago, I was popular too. If you start hanging around with me then who knows what they will say… right?"
Lavi took a deep breath, and with it he accepted everything that was about to come with his next words.
"I don't care… about them."
With those words Allen finally broke down.
He grabbed onto Lavi's shirt and cried against him. He cried so loud and so desperately that Lavi felt a pull at his heart. As Lavi tried to comfort Allen as best as he could, he had to wonder what he had gotten himself into.
...
Despite his hesitations Lavi continued to sit with Allen at lunch and listen to him and comfort him when he needed it, and of course the rest of the school started talking. What was with, Lavi? Where did he go at lunch? Why did he stop talking to his 'friends'? The rumours spread. He had a girlfriend. He was taking drugs. He was skipping to meet with a gang.
Then he was seen with Allen, and new rumours began. He was the same as Allen. They would sit behind the hall and cut each other. They would sit behind the hall and take drugs. They would sit behind the hall and make out. They would sit behind the hall and have sex.
They sat behind the hall, both now equally shunned.
Lavi was kept behind in class, it was deliberate, he offered to help the teacher clean up after chemistry. It was common for students to just run out and leave their mess behind as soon as the lunch bell rang, so Lavi offered to help clean up everything. It was not something he would usually do, be he didn't want to meet up with Allen just yet. He didn't want to say he was starting to regret helping Allen, but it was hard. He heard the rumours that were going around about the two of them. He now knew what it was felt like to be pushed and shoved when simply walking between classes. It was all getting to him and in class, when he heard someone very deliberately talking about 'those emo fags', he felt that he needed some time away from Allen.
He wasn't going to abandon him, but he just wanted a few minutes filled with a menial task to help level him out. He didn't see any harm in it, and if he left things long enough, all the students would be settled into the lunch break and would be less focused on what Lavi was doing and where he was going. He knew he didn't have to put up with it much longer though, Allen and his graduation was in just a few days. They didn't really need to be at school at this point, everything was handed in and the finally marks had come out. So really going to school at this point was just a royalty, or parents forcing their students to go. Lavi was regretting coming, he knew Allen was forced, he knew Allen didn't want to be there anymore. At all, he didn't want to be anywhere anymore… he told him that.
He had to go.
He bolted out of the room, ignoring the teacher as he called out after him. He ran down the walk ways, ignoring the other students as he pushed passed them. He heard the words that were thrown at him but he didn't care, he had to get to Allen. He ran flat out all the way across the school until he reached the hall. He skidded around the corner and found Allen slumped against the wall.
"Allen!" he called out, skidding to a stop on his knees in front of him, "I'm sorry, I had to stay back in Chem."
"No you didn't, you wanted to stay back. I know you're sick of me, you hate me, I know you do. You hate me because I ruined you."
"No, Allen I don't care about that shit!" he shouted, knowing deep inside that there was a small voice that regretted it almost as much as he cared about Allen.
"Fuck you!" Allen shouted, burying his face in his hands, "Don't pretend to care," he followed softer.
It was then that Lavi noticed the blood that was streaming from his left arm, his right hand clenching a cigarette between shaken fingers. He quickly pulled off his school shirt, standing only in a singlet, and stepped towards Allen, pulling his hands away from his face.
"Fuck off!" Allen yelled, trying to pull his arm away from Lavi.
He didn't loosen his grip and ended up being able to press his school shirt against Allen's wrist. He patted at Allen's wrist and then drew the shirt away to inspect the damage. The cut was big, bigger than anything he had seen Allen do before, it went straight from his wrist to his elbow. It wasn't deep enough to kill him unless it was left for a long amount of time, but that didn't stop it from being bad. He let out a sigh and tied his shirt around Allen's arm.
"Let's get you home so we can take care of this properly," he said, gently pulling Allen to his feet.
Allen stood up, looking miserable but then smiled slightly.
"It's at the top of town," he said grabbing his bag and walking away.
Lavi followed, ignoring the stares they got as the two of them walked out the front of the school. He needed to be there for Allen, no matter what they all said, school was over soon, it wouldn't matter soon. Allen was more important, so why was he cringing so much at their stares? He found himself dragging his feet, slowly drawing out the distance between Allen and himself. He thought about running away, leaving Allen to be, but he just felt guilty. He couldn't' leave him now, and that made him feel more guilty. With school almost over he didn't have to worry about people anymore, but he did have to worry about Allen continuing to need him.
When he had first offered to help Allen he didn't think it would last as long as it did. He thought that in a few weeks Allen would get over it perhaps. When that didn't happen he started to wonder how long he would be stuck with him. He cared about Allen, he really did, but after a while it all got old and Lavi wanted to do things, anything, something… just as long as it didn't involve Allen. He was beginning to hate having to listen to Allen cry about how there was nothing wrong. He loved him like a little brother, and hated him as one at the same time. He was sick of listening to him, but didn't want him to fade away at the same time. He was torn and found that it was easier to just stay with him for the time being, at least until he got back to the house for now.
Allen's house wasn't what Lavi expected. It was huge, not just huge, but overly huge, from what he had heard form Allen it was just him and his father, so why did they live in a house with so many rooms? Allen didn't give the rest of the house a second glance but led the way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind them once Lavi had entered. He headed over to the cabinet under the sink while Lavi stood by the door, feeling a little uncomfortable. He didn't want to be there in that large and empty house. He didn't want to be locked in the bathroom while Allen tried to pull a large bag out of the cabinet under the sink. He wanted to run away, but instead he watched as Allen pulled and tugged at the bag under the sink, trying to release it from it's packed in confines.
He managed to pull the back out with a tug, and as a result fell back, hissing in pain as his arm hit the ground.
"I'll get that," Lavi said with a sigh.
He stepped forward and picked up the bag that Allen was gripping. It was a large first aid kit.
"Sit on the tub and hold out your arm," Lavi said, holding in another sigh.
Allen sat on the edge of the tub like told and held out his arm, a small, strange smile touching his lips. Lavi knelt in front of him, opening the bag and then unwrapping his shirt from Allen's arm.
"Have you heard of bin babies?" Allen asked as Lavi worked on his arm.
"Bin babies?" he asked, trying to concentrate.
"Bin babies, it's when someone dumps their new born in a bin, and simply walks away."
"Oh yeah, I've heard of that," Lavi said, getting out the disinfectant along with some gauze and bandages, "They usually only make the news when they've been found alive though."
"Exactly… you know… I'm a bin baby. I wasn't left in a basket out front of a orphanage or even out the front of a church or nunnery. Nope, I was dumped in a bin."
The words made Lavi feel cold.
"But, your father?" Lavi asked, even as he dabbed at his bleeding arm.
"I was adopted, I never told anyone. I was adopted by Mana and his wife Maria. Mum and Dad, but mum died when I was around four."
Lavi didn't know what to say so he worked on Allen's arm, pressing fresh gauze to his arm and then winding a bandage around it.
"And your father just told you all that?" Lavi said at last, the need to know pushing him.
"Of course not, he just told me I was adopted, the rest I found out all on my own. I went through his things. I was curious, I wanted to know who my real parents were even if I considered my Mum and Dad my real Mum and Dad. I guess I wasn't expecting what I found."
Lavi finished off tying the bandage and looked up at Allen, he didn't know what to say. When he saw the strange smile on Allen's face he didn't know what to think. Why was he smiling that way?
"Lavi, I really want to thank you, for everything you've done for me. It… it really helped you know, and I'm sorry if I was depressing and all that."
"It's fine," Lavi said, going to stand up.
"Don't go!" Allen said desperately, grabbing the edge of Lavi's singlet and pulling him back down, "Stay, just a little while longer."
Lavi knelt back down in front of him again, and Allen slide off the tub, kneeling himself. He tentatively raised his arms and wrapped them around Lavi. He leant again him resting his cheek on the others shoulder, his body trembling silently. Lavi knew he should probably hug him back, but his arms remained hanging stiffly by his side. He told himself to lift his arms, give him comfort, but he couldn't.
Allen's grip on him only got tighter and he balled his fists into the fabric of Lavi's singlet.
"Thank you," he whispered, chanting, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
Allen lifted his head from Lavi shoulder, his cheek brushing against Lavi's. Slowly he moved to face Lavi and then pressed their lips together. Allen instantly melted against him, his whole body feeling lighter than it had it months. He had wanted to do this for weeks. He had a yearning for Lavi that at times hurt more than the dark pressure he had pushing in his mind. Moving his lips against Lavi's soft and frozen ones, Allen let out a sigh of relief.
Lavi remained frozen, his mind trying to process what was happening. Why was Allen kissing him? He didn't want this, and he didn't want Allen depending on him more than he already did. He felt Allen move against him and then Lavi did what most males would do when another male friend kissed him.
He shoved Allen away from him and stood up, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth.
"What the fuck was that?!" he yelled down at Allen.
"But, I thought," Allen mumbled, looking up at Lavi with a lost expression.
"There is something wrong with you, you're disgusting."
He left the room, not looking back or bothering to take his blood stained shirt with him. Walking home he tried not to cringe at his own words, hoping he wouldn't come to regret them.
…
Disgusting.
Allen was kneeling on the bathroom sink, looking at himself in the mirror. He stared straight into his own eyes, his breath becoming laboured.
Disgusting.
"S-shit," Allen panted.
Disgusting.
"Shit," he said again, bashing his free hand against the mirror. He clenched his fist and bashed it repeatedly against the mirror, and then his head.
"Shit, shit, FUCK!" he yelled, slamming his head so hard against the mirror that it cracked.
He rested his head against the glass, breathing deeply. He could feel blood running down his face, falling into his eye. Blinking the blood away from his eye, he pulled away to stare himself in the eye again.
Disgusting.
The tears came and flowed down his face, mixing with the thin trail of blood. Looking down he looked at the mess he had created in the sink and all over his hand. Lavi was right, there was something wrong with him, something disgustingly wrong with him.
He looked at himself through the cracked glass. He hated himself, he hated his face and right now he hated Lavi, as much as he loved him.
Slipping off the sink he fixed his pants and left the bathroom, grabbing Lavi's shirt as he did. Padding back to his room, he went straight to his sock draw and pulled it open. Rolled up in a pair of socks he didn't wear anymore was his razor. It was small and was used by panel beaters to scrap stickers and paint off the side of cars. He had, had it for so long that the edges were dulled slightly and he didn't even know where he had got it from anymore. With the razor safe in his hand he went back to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
His hand tightened around Lavi's shirt and his other around the razor. He brought the shirt to his face and inhaled, smelling Lavi, he missed him already. Tossing the shirt to the side, the stained object landing in the tub, he stepped up to the cabinet under the sink and pulled it open. Shoved in the back corner were a set of clippers, the cord wrapped around them and the whole thing caked in a white substance that all neglected bathroom objects eventually gathered.
He unwound the cord and plugged it in, the clippers starting up instantly despite the years of not being used. He set the clippers to the lowest possible setting and then stepped in front of the mirror.
Bringing them up, he pressed them to his scalp and pushed them back, the first locks of auburn hair falling and landing into the sink. He made quick work of it, shaving all the hair from his head with random clumps being missed. When the majority of it was gone he turned the clippers off and set the aside. As earlier he climbed up onto the basin and knelt on it, staring at himself in the mirror.
Disgusting.
Picking up the razor he brought it to his face, swiping it across his cheek with an experimentally slash. The blood pooled and fell down quickly, dripping off his chin into the basin. He then pressed the razor to the cut he already had on his head, digging it in and carving into his forehead. The blood splattered down his face and over his fingers, making the razor slippery in his grip. He had to close his eye as the blood got into it, but it helped make his job easier because next he began to draw a line down his face, over his eye and down his cheek, crossing the slash he had already made.
His hands shook and he began to feel sick and dizzy, but he wasn't done yet. A few more swipes and he would be done, although it was getting hard to keep his hand and his head still. He clenched his jaw and got on with it, slashing his face, creating a 'Z' like pattern across his face. When he was done he let out the breath he had been holding the entire time. He panted heavily, the blood flowing down just as heavily. He was done, almost, he just had to do the same thing again to the other side.
He went to change the blade to his right hand but somewhere his fingers slipped and the blade clatter down to rest in the sink, nestled amongst the shaved locks and the patters of blood. His head swayed as he looked down, sending droplets of blood flying across the room. Reaching down he tried to grab the razor out of the basin, his fingers scraping against the porcelain, stray hairs sticking to his fingers. He swayed again while trying to grab the blade, and tumbled backwards. He fell off the basin limply, his body crashing to the floor and his head smacking harshly against the tiles.
He rolled his head too and fro, trying to will himself to stand. When willing his arms to push him up, all he received was a slight twitch of the fingers. When telling his legs to move, he got as far as moving his foot slightly to the left. He couldn't move and his eyes felt heavy. He let them drift shut, he just needed a small nap. When he woke up he'd finish the other side, and then he's start on his wrists.
...
It was meant to be a one-shot, but it was getting long so I stopped it here.
I've got enough to work on but I sat down and just started typing this.
I'm now wondering what is wrong with me.