Tyler

When I woke up it was in the morning. I smiled at what I saw. Chris was holding my hand, passed out in the chair next to the couch. I looked down and my wrists; they were all bandaged up. I frowned at them, horrified at what I did. I had been doing so well, then I got so upset that I resorted to cutting again.

I hated doing it, but it got everything off my mind, and I needed that. I recited my favorite lyric in my head from Of Mice And Men. ‘A cut cannot heal, unless you leave it alone’.

The smell of bacon filled the room. I slipped my hand out of Chris’s, making sure I didn’t wake him.

In the kitchen Ana was making my favorite: Bacon.

She turned around and smiled sadly.

“Hey, Tyler. You doing okay?” she asked. I nodded; even though I hated being asked if I was okay, I loved it when Ana asked. She really meant it. She actually cared, unlike anyone else that ever asked.

“I made bacon for you, I thought you would like it,” she said.

“I do, thank you.” I smiled.

Seeing my bracelets on the counter, I grabbed them and slipped them in my pocket shamefully. I would have to wear these all the time, I thought. No one could see my scars. I wouldn’t let them.

I smiled as I felt a pair of arms wrap around me. Chris.

“Hello,” he whispered in my ear. I gasped as he gently kissed my neck, sending chills all over my body. I didn’t know how many times I had said it before, but this boy was perfect.

“Mmm hello,” I said in my morning voice. Seeing as how I had a severe case of bed-head, I pulled away from Chris and went to the nearest mirror.

As I fixed my hair, I started thinking about what I had done last night. What I had done, not only to me, but to Chris and Ana. They both had so much faith in me, so much confidence, and I just threw it all away. They must be so disappointed in me, I thought, frowning in the mirror. I suddenly didn’t like what I saw and I looked away.

Chris came to find me.

“Please never do it again. Please. Promise me,” he sobbed. I buried my head in his chest.

“I can’t promise. You know I can’t promise,” I said, tears of my own soaking his shirt. I couldn’t. I couldn’t promise anything nowadays.

We stood there and just held each other, until the doorbell rang.

Chris wiped my tears away with his thumb, and we both walked to the door, arms around each other.

My father stood outside of the door, face red as an apple.

“Oh. Hi, dad…” I said awkwardly.

He pulled on my wrist to yank me away from Chris. I stumbled and screamed at the pain as I felt my cuts start to bleed again. I bit my lip as I held my wrist and fell on the floor.

“Oh my God, Tyler!” Chris cried out, picking me up and carrying me inside with my father nagging at him to put me down.

“He doesn’t need help,” my father shouted.

“Bullshit! Ana! We need help in here, I think they opened again,” Chris yelled into the kitchen.

“You think what opened?” my father said, clearly confused. Chris’s eyes opened wide, as Ana walked in.

How was I supposed to hide anything from my father now?

*****

What do you think Tyler’s dad will do?