A/N: I honestly do not know where the idea for this fic came from. I really don't. But I was watching Nirvana Unplugged last night, when this suddenly came into my head. So. . .here it is.
Please note: This story contains self-harm.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea for this fic, okay? So I would very, very grateful if you did not sue me. Thanks!
Only Me
Summer fumbled with her keys. "Damn it, why can I never find the front door key when it's raining?" She muttered angrily to herself. They slipped out of her grasp and fell to the floor with a thud. "Damn!" She went to pick them up, when there was a loud rattling behind her. She turned to see Freddy on his skateboard, zooming past her house. "Hey, Freddy!" She yelled. But to her surprise, he ignored her, jumped off his skateboard and ran into his house, slamming the door shut behind him with an almighty bang! Summer winced. "I should be used to that - that's what you get when you live next door to him half your life," she mumbled, finally managing to open the front door.
As soon as she stepped inside, the first thing she noticed was the phone ringing. Dropping her bag and keys on the floor, she raced into the kitchen, dived for the phone and picked it up just the answering machine came on.
"Hello?" She asked, out of breath.
"Hey. Is Summer there?"
"This is Summer. Hi Dewey."
"Oh, sorry. You sound a lot like your mom when your on the phone."
"You've said that before," Summer replied dryly.
"I have?"
"Yeah."
"Oh. Sorry."
"That's okay. Why are you calling?"
"I thought that was obvious! Why aren't you here at band practise?"
"Oh, I won't be able to make it today. My mom and dad are out, so they can't take me."
"Bummer. Freddy isn't here either."
"I know, I just saw him run into his house at about one hundred miles an hour."
"Huh?" Summer had to laugh at how confused Dewey sounded.
"He lives next door to me."
"Oh good, you can go round there and tell him to get his ass down to practise!"
"I can?"
"Thanks Summer!" Dewey hung up, leaving Summer staring open-mouthed at the mouthpiece. Feeling slightly annoyed, she put the phone down, and stomped back out into the hall. Freddy Jones, I am going to kick your ass! she thought angrily, picking up her keys. With slightly more force than was necessary, she pulled the door open, stepped outside, and slammed the door shut again. Stuffing her keys in her pocket, she jumped over the hedge that separated hers and Freddy's driveways and walked up to the front door.
As she reached out to ring the bell, she suddenly noticed - the front door was open. That's weird. . .she thought. Should I go in? Oh. . .might as well. She stepped forward, and pushed the door open a little further. "Hello?" She called. "Freddy, you here?" There was no answer. But I saw him come in only five minutes ago! Where is he? Summer sighed heavily, pushed the door wide open, and stepped inside.
The first thing she noticed was how quiet it was. Feeling a slight sense of foreboding, she closed the door behind her, and then stood still, wondering where Freddy could be. Might as well do the logical thing, and LOOK. "Shut up brain," she hissed, making her way to what she remembered was the living room door. That too was open. But it was so dark inside that she couldn't actually see anything. The curtains were drawn, and the lights were off. Summer fumbled for the light switch and, upon finding it, flipped it on.
And gasped at the sight in front of her.
"Freddy!"
*~*~*~*~*
He jumped a mile at the sound of her voice. The scissors slipped, scouring deeper into his flesh. He jumped to his feet, the scissors falling to the floor, still stained with his blood. He urgently kicked them away, under the sofa, and then moved away from Summer, tugging his sleeve down.
"Freddy. . ." Summer gasped, her eyes wide with shock. "What. . .what the hell. . .what are you DOING?" She shrieked, unconsciously moving towards him. He backed off, nearly falling over the coffee table in his attempt to get away from Summer. "Woah. It's only me." Freddy did not reply. He kept moving away, fell into the armchair. "Freddy. . .why were you. . .why. . .I mean. . ."
Her immediate shock started ebbing away, and irritation began creeping up on her when Freddy still didn't say anything. His eyes were firmly locked on the carpet underneath his feet. "Freddy!" She snapped. "Talk to me, please!" Still, he made no movement. "Freddy, for God's sake! You're beginning to annoy me - Freddy?" She cut off mid-sentence when Freddy looked up at her. His face was blank. Expressionless. But that was not what shocked Summer the most.
Freddy's dark brown eyes were full of tears.
"Freddy?" She said, much more gently. He looked away sharply as the tears started falling, and he started furiously scrubbing at his face with his sleeve. "Hey, hey, hey. What's wrong?" She asked, making her way over, and sitting on the arm of the chair. He didn't reply, but only started crying harder, his shoulders shaking. "Oh Freddy. Come here." She put her arm round him. To her complete surprise, he responded, and rested his head on her shoulder. "It's okay. It's only me," she said soothingly as she stroked his spiky blond hair.
"I can't cope anymore," he sobbed into her shoulder. "I can't cope." Summer felt a pang in her heart as Freddy cried. It's okay Freddy. . .I'm here.
*~*~*~*~*
"Here. Drink," Summer instructed firmly, kneeling down and placing a mug into Freddy's hands. He eyed it suspiciously, then gave Summer a look. "What? You've never had tea before?" He smiled weakly at her, and lifted the mug. "Careful. It's hot." He took a sip. "Better?" He nodded. "Okay. You ready to talk yet?" He looked up her, fear suddenly showing in his eyes. "Freddy, come on. You're gonna have to talk at some point." He mumbled something she couldn't hear. "What?"
"Maybe I don't want to talk," he said in a near-whisper. Summer looked concerned.
"Why not?"
"Because. . .it's not that easy."
"I know that, but -"
"No, you DON'T know!" He yelled suddenly, making Summer jump about a foot in the air. "I'm SICK of people thinking they know, when they don't! Why can't you all just leave it?!?" Summer stared at Freddy, before collecting her thoughts.
"Okay, I don't know then," she replied, a lot more calmly than she really felt. "So will you tell me? Come on Freddy," she said as he sighed heavily. "It's only me." Freddy tilted his head to one side, and gave Summer the strangest look. She looked right back at him. This continued for a few minutes, until Freddy gave up and finally spoke.
"It makes me feel better."
"What?"
"It doesn't matter how bad I've been feeling - how numb I've been feeling. As soon as I see the blood - it's. . .oh, I don't know. . .it's like all my problems are being washed away. I stop feeling numb. I feel alive. Seeing my blood - it makes me feel alive," he finished. Summer was slightly scared at just how calm he sounded.
"That's why you do it? That's why you cut yourself? It makes you feel better? I don't understand."
"No one does." Summer opened her mouth to say something, then changed her mind. She decided to change tactics.
"So. . .you've done it before then?" She asked gently, an idea forming in her head. Freddy paused for a second, then put down his mug of now cold tea. He sat straight, pushed his right sleeve up and then pushed his left sleeve up. Summer instinctively took his hands and turned them over so that she could see his arms. She gasped.
Hundreds of scars littered both his arms. Some were small, others she could tell had been deep - very deep. There was even a deep, silvery scar across his left wrist that made Summer feel slightly sick to look at. There were coloured lines everywhere - faint silvery trails where the skin had knit itself better and what were obviously more recent wounds - dull purple stripes. And fresh cuts. Angry, red, vicious cuts. And then. . .
"It looks like you'll need stitches," Summer said softly, gently touching the cuts Freddy had been making when she had interrupted him. There were several - all of them looked deep. All of them were bleeding, small scarlet rivers travelling down his arm, staining his jumper.
"It'll be alright," Freddy replied, wriggling out of Summer's grasp and rolling his sleeves back down. Summer took Freddy's head in her hands so that he couldn't look away.
"Okay," she said, gently but firmly. "Talk."
A/N: I hope you liked that. But if you have a problem with it, don't bother telling me okay? Because while a lot of this is made up - hence the name fanfiction - some of it is my own story. I used to do what Freddy does (well, what he does in this story) so if you have a problem - don't bother flaming me, alright?
Don't worry, I am going to continue with my other School of Rock story, but I wanted to get this down. So until next time. Please read and review.