Chapter 17

Two-Bit

All those people that said that cutting makes you feel better were wrong. It just makes you hurt even more.

I watched the drops of blood drip down my wrist. Sheba, who had been asleep next to me woke up and looked at my wrist. She made this confused woofing sound and then started licking the blood off my wrist. It stung. I pulled my wrist away. Sheba gave me a confused look and then jumped off the bed. She was probably going to get Savannah. Sheba thinks she's Lassie or something; she's constantly leaving the room and then coming back with Savannah.

Sure enough, Savannah came in a few minutes later. My wrist was still bleeding. Savannah sat down next to me and started putting tissues on my cut wrist. She was squeezing my wrist; probably trying to make the bleeding stop.

"What'd you cut yourself with?" Savannah asked.

I took my knife out from under the sheets where I'd hidden it. There were still a few drops of blood on it. I handed it to Savannah. She looked at it, wiped the blood off on her jeans, and then closed the knife and put it in her pocket. Then she got up and left the room.

Savannah came back in with a bottle of Peroxide and some band-aids. She cleaned my wrist and then put the band-aids on it. I expected Savannah to tell me that she was disappointed that I cut myself or tell me that she and mom would have to send me to an asylum, but she didn't. Savannah just held me and talked to me quietly.

What's wrong with me? I hate being depressed. I want to stop being depressed, but I just can't. Maybe I just need a change of scenery. If I could go back to Savannah's apartment I would feel better.

Savannah

Two-Bit is staring off into space. I've been talking to him for a while, but he's not responding. It's like to him I'm not even there.

I can't believe he cut himself. I'm afraid to tell his mom, she might send him away to an asylum. Sending him away is probably the worst thing to do. He just needs to get away from the east side. I think that he'd feel a lot better after spending a few days at my apartment. This side of town has too many bad memories for him.

"Two-Bit," I said softly.

"Yeah," he replied. He finally answered me.

"Once you get a bit better, you're coming to live with me, Ok?" I said.

Two-Bit smiled and nodded, "You don't have to ask twice," he said.

I smiled too, and started stroking Two-Bit's hair. He closed his eyes, but he kept smiling at me.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" Two-Bit said.

I laughed, "You must still be sick. You're delirious."

Two-Bit didn't say anything for a long time. After about a half hour of silence, I heard the front door open, and then close. Then Two-Bit's mom was standing in the doorway.

"How's he doing?" She asked as she sat down next to me.

"Better," I replied. I decided not to tell her about Two-Bit coming to live with me until later.

"What happened to his wrist?" Two-Bit's mom asked worriedly.

"Oh, that," I said. "He was playing with Sheba, and she got sort of carried away and bit him. It's not too bad, but it was bleeding a little so I put a band-aid on it."

"Alright," Two-Bit's mom said. "I have to go to work soon. Keep an eye on him for me."

"Sure," I said as Two-Bit's mom left the room.

After Two-Bit's mom left the room, Two-Bit muttered "Thanks."

"What?" I asked.

But Two-Bit didn't answer, he just shook his head. I kept asking him what he meant, but he still didn't answer me. He didn't talk to me for the rest of the night.