Don't get used to double updates- I just figured that since this part was done, why not upload it? Trigger warning- self-harm, depression, suicidal thoughts. Enjoy.
Fuck it.
Just fuck it all.
So many fucking things have gone wrong today- I don't even know where to start. When I finally get inside my room, I lock the door, and snatch the blade from my pocket. Tears build in my eyes, burning to let go, but I shake my head, blinking back the fluid. The blade is pressed to my wrist, and I don't even have to think twice about what I'm going to do- in a matter of minutes, my arm is covered in blood, and my breathing finally calms. It's absolutely sick- that watching myself bleed is what calms me down, but it has stopped me from hyperventilating, so I really don't care- whatever works at this point.
I inhale a deep breath, and then exhale, leaning back against the headboard of my bed. Today was a lot worse than I could ever fathom. I never knew that people hated my music- to the point of bullying me because of it. Physical and verbal abuse took place- my cheek is swollen, and I have a black eye- both reminders of what I've been through today. It hurt- but the worst part, by far- was that Dez watched the entire thing- and when the bullies kicked me to the ground and left, he went with them.
He doesn't care.
No one cares.
The tears burn again, but this time- I'm unable to quell them. I'm crying in a matter of minutes, squeezing my eyes shut, and gripping my blade so hard my fingers turn white. I don't even think I can breathe properly right now, and the prospect of that is scaring me.
I'm just trying to keep myself calm- I don't want to have a panic attack. Oh, yeah. I get those now. They're rare, but when I get too upset or overwhelmed, I can't breathe- and then come the violent shakes and sweats. It's truly horrid, and I hate panic attacks with every fiber of my being. They terrify me- because most of the time, there's no one to help me out.
Ally knows about them, but I doubt she cares anymore. She's lost all the care in the world about me- so, seeing me having a fucking panic attack probably wouldn't even faze her. If I slit my wrist in front of her- I doubt she'd care. I doubt any of them would give a fucking damn.
I just want to tell her. I want to tell all three of them…I want them to feel the guilt. I want them to feel guilty about all the fucking agony they've caused me. I want them to hate themselves because their comments are what make me cut into my skin. I want to scream my problems to the world, but the repercussions after doing that are far too great. No one else should have to suffer because I'm a whiny baby that deals with his problems by slicing into his own flesh.
I'm a fucking mess.
I'm scared to go home.
I failed my math test today, and I just can't deal with my parents' yelling. Not today- it's already been crappy enough, and I don't think I can just take whatever they say. It hurts too much, and I just can't face it without breaking down in some way, shape, or form.
I walk in the other direction, past Sonic Boom, not knowing where the hell I'm headed. Maybe I can just walk off the face of the Earth. That'd be cool, right? It's an irrational thought- but a comforting one all the same- any thought of death has become something of comfort, in my eyes. It sounds horrible, and it is, but I'm horrible, so it fits in well.
I finally come to a park- a deserted park, to be exact. There's absolutely no one in sight, and the feeling makes me happier than I've been in a while. I like being alone- it's comforting, because no one's watching me- judging me. I walk into the park, and sit down against a tree, pulling out my blade, and resting my head against the trunk. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, letting out a sigh. I just need to get away from life for a few minutes- there is nothing I'd like more than to stop being Austin Moon- for just one day…
"Don't do it."
My attention is acquired in seconds. My eyes widen, as I look at the guy in front of me. He's tall, with beach-blonde hair, and chocolate brown eyes. He's dressed in a dark grey t-shirt, and blue jeans- he's also carrying a guitar case- which grabs my interest. His gaze is serious, and he's looking right at me, his stare burning into my corneas.
"Who are you?" A random stranger is seeing me with a razor pressed to my wrist- I'd be lying if I said it wasn't creepy, and I wasn't kinda scared.
He shakes his head, taking a seat beside me. "Besides the point. Don't cut yourself."
"Why does it matter to you? You know nothing about me," I mutter coldly. I didn't think I could be so bitter, but I guess it's because of how shitty today was. My mood is absolutely horrid.
He chuckles humorlessly. "I know you're Austin Moon, famous singing sensation, with a shitload of girls falling on their knees- begging to date you."
"So, you're another fan? And you're gonna tell everyone you saw the Austin Moon, self-harming?" I'm trying to sound intimidating, but inside- I'm fucking terrified. If this gets out to the press, I'll never be able to live it down. There's nothing Jimmy can do to calm the rumors- well, not necessarily rumors, because they're true- and he'll be pissed at me.
The boy shakes his head again. "I know what it's like, Austin. I've been there. It hurts, I know- but you don't have to hurt yourself over it."
"You have no idea what it's like," I snarl. "If someone knew what it was like, I wouldn't be in this mess."
"I don't know what it's like? I know how it feels to rely on a blade. To want nothing more than release- to crave it more than anything. I know what it's like to be pressured from all sides, and have nowhere to turn- but to the blade. I know what it feels like to cry yourself to sleep at night, reopen scars, and barely flinch at the pain. Don't say that I don't have an idea of what you're going through, because I do."
"Alright, so you know a lot about this. That doesn't mean you know me." I cross my arms over my chest, still gripping the blade like it's a life force.
He sighs. "I may not know you personally, Austin- but I want to help you. You're an amazing person- and I know you don't deserve to feel like suicide is the only way to rid yourself of pain."
"I'm not an amazing person. I'm a fuck-up. All you know is what's said about me in the news. I'm fucked up inside."
He scoffs. "You're not fucked up, Austin. You may be broken, but it's not your fault. Life isn't easy- you gotta break at some point. You need help- so what? I'm not one to refer you to a therapist and be done with this shit. Therapists can't do shit. You need someone who understands. Someone who knows what it's like, and someone who cares."
This is truly the first time someone has shown me that they care. A feeling of warmth spreads throughout me- before it is replaced by fear. Cold, hard fear seeps into my veins, and I stare at the stranger. "How do I know you're not lying to me? How do I know you're not going to run and tell every person you know- about this- when this conversation is over? How do I know I can trust you?"
"You don't," He replies. "I can't decide who you trust, and who you don't. But I can prove that I- and this- are one hundred percent real."
"How?"
He doesn't answer- instead, he rolls up his sleeves, and my eyes widen. Scar after scar line his wrists- all fully healed, but never faded. They run all the way up past his elbows- long and thin.
"W-What…?"
He pulls his sleeves back down, and exhales a deep breath, before speaking again. "I'm a recovering cutter, Austin. My brother found out a little less than two months ago, and he made me quit. Haven't done it since. I can help you- I know what it's like. If you'll let me, I know just what to do."
"I don't even know your name." I process all of this, my thoughts whirling. Who is he? Have I met him before, have I seen him before? I don't have memory of him, but then again, my memory's as great as an etch-a-sketch right now.
"It's Riker. Riker Lynch."
So, there we go. We've met Riker- so, the rest of them will be coming up, probably in the next chapter. Note- in this, Ratliff is their brother as well, and his full name is Ellington Ratliff Lynch- they'll call him Ratliff. Just wanted to clarify, so you won't get confused next chapter. I hope you enjoyed this, and please leave me some reviews.
-Neha