Bradie and I were sitting at recess, it was pouring down rain which pleased me rather much because I fucking loved the rain, I pulled my jumper sleeves up, and sure my few scars were showing but I didn't care at that moment. I had nothing to eat, well I did but I didn't like any of it, I'd palmed off most of it to Bradie and the rest would be going in the bin. I saw Bradie's eyes venture down my arms and land on my scars, the recurrent fear rising inside me,
"What're—" "Cat scratches," he nodded, hopefully I'd convinced him, I couldn't have anyone find out about what I did, I got up and walked down to the library,
"Where are you going?" He shouted out after me,
"Library!" I walked at a leisurely pace despite the pouring rain; hopefully it would wash away my terrible mood and paranoia. Most people said problems like this, like depression could go away, like an on off switch, maybe a bipolar on off switch, but no, you couldn't just turn it off. It was embedded in the depths of your brain, once you started it was hard to stop, it became an obsession, a way to mark yourself as not good enough, that's what it was for me, that's what it became for me, not good enough. Too lazy, too annoying, not popular enough, not good looking enough, my mind was a minefield of negative thoughts slowly crushing me under the pressure. I went inside, dumping my bag just outside the door; I knew where I was headed, usually just to sit in the corner and do nothing except be with my thoughts, no, not today. I knocked on the door and it opened up,
"May I help you?" I nodded keeping my head low,
"Can I speak to the counsellor please?" a soft smile graced her face and I looked up,
"Can I have your name please?" I racked my mind contemplating whether or not to give her a real name, hah, no way,
"Travis Barker," she nodded, come on she must have known that wasn't my actual name, obviously not as she lead me inside and I sat down,
"What seems to be the problem?" I pulled up my sleeves and heard her gasp, I knew she'd do that, Andrew hadn't, he looked more concerned than anything when I first showed him. He was sympathetic to my problems, all the miniscule amount he was aware of. A lot went through my mind, a lot, I'd considered suicide multiple times, and I mean multiple times, but he had stopped me all the time. He was like my saviour, no one could honestly understand.
I sat in English, my pencil dancing over the page drawing Frank the Rabbit from Donnie Darko, every so often feeling glances from Bradie,
"Shaun are you… are you honestly okay? You're really quiet today," I shot him a glare, "And your arm it… it doesn't—" "I told you they're cat scratches; she was fucking having a PMS fit at me okay? Chill, and maybe I'm just tired, did you think that?" he sat there staring at me with a blank expression, "I'm sorry, it's just… hard to explain, well not really more like hard to understand," he smiled gently and put his hand over mine as a comforting gesture,
"It's okay, I'm here for you if you need someone though, you know that," I smiled and moved my hand away from his, "Do you maybe want to come over this afternoon?" it wasn't a genuine smile on my face until he asked, his house meant Andrew, thank the lord,
"Yeah sure, my parents shouldn't mind, I'll just text them and ask," the two of us looked at each other momentarily and I pulled my phone out of my pocket concealing it under the bottom of my jumper, '1 New Message' braced my screen and I swallowed hard,
"Who's it from?" I shrugged having a good idea who it actually was from, no way am I letting him see that, I thought as I sent a quick text to my parents,
Hey, going to Bradie's this afternoon, assignment to work on.
Be home before nine was all they replied with, I snickered and put it away before looking back at Bradie,
"I can stay until nine," he smiled his goofy grin and did a double thumbs up, I shook my head and still had a smile on my face from before. If only there was a way Andy and I could get alone without anyone being suspicious, sure he meant 'love' as a brotherly love, but I wish he knew it meant more when I said it. I sighed for a while and went back to my work, what little of it I was doing, the anticipation for that afternoon clashing with my ever recurrent depression.