Sitting in my room with my mother the following Sunday afternoon, I stared at her with disbelief. Did she really just say what I think she said?

"...You're serious?" When she nodded, I smiled. "Oh, thank you! Thank you thank you! I'm forever grateful!"

"Now, the basic rules apply. No sending nude or erotic pictures of yourself to anyone. And I'd prefer if you wouldn't sext either." She smirked.

I rolled my eyes, but hugged her. "I'll try to refrain." I muttered sarcastically.

"They'll be here in the mail by Tuesday the latest. I ordered them last Monday, but decided to wait to tell you."

"Why wait until today?" She chuckled as I groaned.

"I was actually planning on waiting until they arrived to tell you. But then again, since I'm so nice I decided to tell you now." Her motherly smile just made me sigh.

"Well, thank you!" I smiled at her once more. She ruffled my hair, then left the room. I lay back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I wondered what kind of phone she'd chosen for me.

And as for sexting, and nude photos, and anything relating to that, who in the bloody hell would I have to send those kinds of things to? Even if I did take photos of myself, I'd have no one to send them to. Not that I would take those kind of photos, anyways...

But then my mind wandered to Alfred. Images of him floated through my head, and I wondered if he would like to see pictures of me like that. Images of him with lesser and lesser clothing began to drift across my mind.

I grabbed my pillow, covering my reddened face. I groaned into it, wondering why on earth I was thinking such things of someone I'd just met two days ago! With a sigh, I decided to lay down for a nap.

I was met with dreams about the boy I once knew.

"Alexander!" His hair blowing in the wind, he grinned at me. Those glittering blue eyes closed as he grinned, and I reached my hand out to him. We both felt the spark as our hands touched, and he pulled me close. We embraced in my yard, our parents out for the day.

"Hey, why don't we go inside?" I offered. "I can put on a pot of tea." He nodded, and we entered the house. I did as I said I would, and I watched as he sat, flipping through the channels on the tv at lightspeed. I wondered vaguely how he could even begin to tell what was flashing by, but then I just let it go. Whatever.

I brought him a cup of tea, taking a seat beside him on the sofa. He sipped it, smiling. "You make a mean cup of tea, Arthur."

"Thank you." I replied, sipping mine as well. His face slowly reverted from its usually happy glow, edging toward a more serious gaze into his cup.

"Everything alright, Alexander?" I grew worried. He only made that face when something horrible was going to happen...

"I-I..." Those pretty blue eyes grew sparklier. He set down his tea on the coffee table, slipping a coaster beneath it. I did the same, turning to him.

"What's wrong, Alexander?" He wrapped his arms around my neck, and I could feel his body begin to shake. I snaked my arms around his waist, pressing my lips to his forehead gently. "Please don't cry... Just tell me what's wrong..."

"Oh, Arthur!" He sobbed into my chest. "I-I'm moving... Next week!"

I felt all the air rush out of my body, my stomach sinking. "Wh-what...? Why?" I could just barely get the words out, tears starting to threaten my eyes.

"My mother... She misses her family... So we're moving to the United States..."

Suddenly the scene changed.

"Arthur!" my father screamed, bursting into my room. I looked up, terrified. He'd never been this angry at me before. I stared at him over the cover of my favorite novel, fearful of what he'd do. He held up my journal, pointing to one of the many pages. "What the bloody fuck is this?" His voice grew louder. I blinked, feeling my face heat up.

"Wh-where on earth did you find that?" I stuttered, just barely managing to keep my voice steady. His eyes glowing with anger, he whipped the book at me. I didn't dare flinch as it hit me on the head. I felt a bump already begin to rise.

I then awoke. I sat up, tears stinging my eyes. Why was I remembering this now? Why was my brain pushing these godaweful memories into my dreams? Was it supposed to be God's cruel trick on me or something?

I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes, hoping to supress the tears. It didn't help much. Slowly tears rolled down my cheeks, and I sniffled pitifully.

"Oh, Alexander..." I sighed into the loneliness of my room. "Why did you have to leave...?" The tears beginning to come faster, I decided to just let myself cry. It wasn't like anyone could criticize me in the confines of my room anyways. I pressed my hands to my face, sobbing quietly.

I never realised I'd missed him that much. It'd been years since I'd seen him, so I thought I would be over it by now. But for some reason, that dream made me feel overwhelmingly sad. The ache in my chest grew as more memories of him flowed through my mind. I let the sadness take over, let it devour me. My tears, held unshed since he'd left, all came at once. I sobbed uncontrollably, the droplets hitting my jeans and creating small spots. Even when I willed my tears to stop, they wouldn't.

Then something happened to me. As if I were no longer in control of myself, I got up. I walked over to my dresser, pulled out my pocketknife, and flipped it open. Pulling up my sleeve, I looked at the now scabbing cuts I'd created Thursday. Taking the tip of the blade, I dragged it down the middle of my wrist, dividing each cut in half. Crimson blood bubbled to the surface, my tears now hitting my wrist. The salty liquid mingled with the blood, burning the laceration slightly. I couldn't have cared less at that moment though.

I fell to my knees, my feelings seeming to swallow my body's strength. I interlaced one cut with another, the blood seeping from them collecting on the floor. Pulling the gleaming, blood-spattered blade through my wrist in all different directions, I edged further down until I reached halfway to my elbow. I created stars and crosses, along with many other creative shapes.

Finally, all my energy and tears drained, I rest my head against the dresser. It wasn't until the pocket knife clattered to the floor that I realised what had happened.

"Kh..." The burning in my wrist grew, and I cringed slightly. Looking down at my wrist, I could make out several new shapes. My eyes widened slightly as I realised something. School. Would someone see them? Would they question me?

Then another thought crossed my mind that terrified me. What if mum sees these? My mind was racing. I'm supposed to be strong... I'm supposed to be the one who kept it together during that whole thing...

With a drawn out sigh, I stood. Slowly I poked my head out into the hallway. Seeing the coast was clear, I ran across the hall to the bathroom. First, I cleaned the blood off the blade, drying it carefully until it gleamed. Then I rinsed the blood from my wrist, flinching at the slight burn of the warm water in my open wounds.

Finishing cleaning the blood from my wounds, I examined the sink. Blood spattered across the basin and faucet, decorating the counter's edge as well. Quickly rinsing the droplets from said areas, I dried with the same towel I used for my blade.

Hearing footsteps on the stairs, I froze momentarily. I quickly yanked my sleeve into place, tucking the blade into my pocket. Ridding myself of any evidence, I crossed the hall to my room just in time. As I sat on my bed, slipping the knife beneath my sheets, my mother walked in. Her eyes held a slight amount of concern, and I panicked for a moment.

"Arthur...?" She began, leaning on the doorjamb. I looked at her, on my toes but my face relaxed. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine..." I sighed, hoping she wouldn't question me.

"O-Oh... It sounded like you were crying. I was afraid something was wrong..." She looked off to the side then. "I thought that you might've been thinking about..."

"No!" I exclaimed. "I mean, no. I wasn't." I already knew who she was talking about. "I'm finished with him, he's far gone. Has been for years, mum."

"Alright..." She sighed, looking back at me. "Well, I'm going to make supper tonight." With that, she exited the room.

I lay back, feeling relieved. She hadn't noticed a blessed thing!

I want reviews! I got a few of them, but I'd like more. I need to know how I'm doing! I'm holding the next chapter hostage until I get reviews! Thanks :'D