Kill All Your Friends
Six
Gerard’s P.O.V
I have wanted to cut myself ever since the strange atmosphere between Frank and I. I didn’t do it yesterday cuz I fear my mother would notice. But apparently she does.
I picked up the little blade from the cutter and hid it in my fist walking towards the bathroom. I cut it on my left hand, the said facing my side. Since I’m right handed and you can’t actually see it except from some particular angle. I cut more than I have expected, four times I think. Deeper and deeper each time. Regardless, not bearing to feel the pain. Just slidding it across my arm fast and hard. Make it as less pain as possible. And it started bleeding. I covered it with a Band-Aid after cleaning it up with alcohol.
It just feels so good and perfect after all those things.
I felt better.
Everything.
*
In the morning, after the horrible music lesson, Frank stopped me on my way back to my seat. He asked me sternly why did I cut myself again. I think he must have spotted the band-aid on my left hand. Damn it. Why didn’t I just take it off? Maybe that’s less noticeable. I looked at him for a few moments before looking away. I didn’t say anything, I didn’t feel like talking to him. Then he just dropped it thoughtfully. We talked about something that I’ve forgot what it was in particular. The main thing was that I got my mad feelings towards him disappeared along with my words. You know? The mad feelings about him playing with my feelings? And forgetting about it is NOT a good thing.
When we were having lessons in separate classrooms, I finally had the guts to text him something stupid but teasing in a way.
‘What would you do if I say that I find myself starting to like Helen?’ I was dying to know what was his facial expression when he saw the message.
‘Totally supportive.’ Fuck you. I thought.
‘Too bad I don’t feel that way for her.’
‘And what does that mean?’
‘That means she’s nice but I still don’t like her that way.’ My hints are so obvious, but I don’t know did he get it. Think objectively, why would some one tell you that they don’t like a girl that way when nothing is forcing them to like her?
‘So spill, who is it? The one you liked THAT way.’ I can feel his sarcasm.
Then I didn’t text back anymore. I hoped he would ask, and he didn’t disappoint me.
“Tell me god damn it! Who is it?” He ran over to me after the lesson.
I was going to say ‘you’ as usual – which is very true – when he cut me off with a “except for me”. Why even bother to ask when you know the answer?
“Then that would be no one. It’s always been you and I wasn’t lying all a long.” Wow, that’s too far isn’t it? I can’t believe I just let those words slip through my lips. But I still don’t think he’s gonna believe me.
He sighed heavily and I guess the conversation was over.
*
At the end of the last lesson, Mrs. Dipshit got the whole class stayed behind so she can give back some of our worksheets. Who the hell would care about the worksheets? They’re going to end up in the fireplace or wrapping up dog shits anyways. There’s actually nothing left for us to do so I was just sitting there and picking on the lose cloth of my shirt. I was dead bored. Frank then turned over to face me and I looked him in the eye. When I finally knew what the hell I was doing, it was too late to say ‘nothing’ and feel lucky that I didn’t say it. I found myself mouthing ‘I love you’ to Frank. I was mentally smacking myself when he mouthed back ‘ I know’. I was stunned. I wasn’t expecting that. I was expecting him to smirk and turned away or pretend to be surprised and still smirks and turned away. Then we just smiled. What the fuck just happened?
I don’t know if he is taking me seriously or not now.
Mostly not I think.
Still think so.
I have wanted to cut myself ever since the strange atmosphere between Frank and I. I didn’t do it yesterday cuz I fear my mother would notice. But apparently she does.
I picked up the little blade from the cutter and hid it in my fist walking towards the bathroom. I cut it on my left hand, the said facing my side. Since I’m right handed and you can’t actually see it except from some particular angle. I cut more than I have expected, four times I think. Deeper and deeper each time. Regardless, not bearing to feel the pain. Just slidding it across my arm fast and hard. Make it as less pain as possible. And it started bleeding. I covered it with a Band-Aid after cleaning it up with alcohol.
It just feels so good and perfect after all those things.
I felt better.
Everything.
*
In the morning, after the horrible music lesson, Frank stopped me on my way back to my seat. He asked me sternly why did I cut myself again. I think he must have spotted the band-aid on my left hand. Damn it. Why didn’t I just take it off? Maybe that’s less noticeable. I looked at him for a few moments before looking away. I didn’t say anything, I didn’t feel like talking to him. Then he just dropped it thoughtfully. We talked about something that I’ve forgot what it was in particular. The main thing was that I got my mad feelings towards him disappeared along with my words. You know? The mad feelings about him playing with my feelings? And forgetting about it is NOT a good thing.
When we were having lessons in separate classrooms, I finally had the guts to text him something stupid but teasing in a way.
‘What would you do if I say that I find myself starting to like Helen?’ I was dying to know what was his facial expression when he saw the message.
‘Totally supportive.’ Fuck you. I thought.
‘Too bad I don’t feel that way for her.’
‘And what does that mean?’
‘That means she’s nice but I still don’t like her that way.’ My hints are so obvious, but I don’t know did he get it. Think objectively, why would some one tell you that they don’t like a girl that way when nothing is forcing them to like her?
‘So spill, who is it? The one you liked THAT way.’ I can feel his sarcasm.
Then I didn’t text back anymore. I hoped he would ask, and he didn’t disappoint me.
“Tell me god damn it! Who is it?” He ran over to me after the lesson.
I was going to say ‘you’ as usual – which is very true – when he cut me off with a “except for me”. Why even bother to ask when you know the answer?
“Then that would be no one. It’s always been you and I wasn’t lying all a long.” Wow, that’s too far isn’t it? I can’t believe I just let those words slip through my lips. But I still don’t think he’s gonna believe me.
He sighed heavily and I guess the conversation was over.
*
At the end of the last lesson, Mrs. Dipshit got the whole class stayed behind so she can give back some of our worksheets. Who the hell would care about the worksheets? They’re going to end up in the fireplace or wrapping up dog shits anyways. There’s actually nothing left for us to do so I was just sitting there and picking on the lose cloth of my shirt. I was dead bored. Frank then turned over to face me and I looked him in the eye. When I finally knew what the hell I was doing, it was too late to say ‘nothing’ and feel lucky that I didn’t say it. I found myself mouthing ‘I love you’ to Frank. I was mentally smacking myself when he mouthed back ‘ I know’. I was stunned. I wasn’t expecting that. I was expecting him to smirk and turned away or pretend to be surprised and still smirks and turned away. Then we just smiled. What the fuck just happened?
I don’t know if he is taking me seriously or not now.
Mostly not I think.
Still think so.