Reduced To Tears.

Caris got up. She got dressed. And she walked out the door, as usual. Charity had to jog to keep up with Caris’s every growing speed.
“Caris! Caris! Jeez, must you run so fast?” Charity yelled out to her.
Caris ignored her, alone in her little world. Her friend, Andrew Caughtier was waiting near the gate when Charity and Caris arrived.
“Hey girls.” He said to them, smiling broadly. Caris slowed down, and permitted Charles a smile, then let the corners of her lips fall as fast as they had turned.
“Tcha, so she slows down for you.” Charity mumbled to herself, veering off into the locker area.
Andrew had black hair, deep brown eyes and tanned skin. He was from New Zealand, and for that reason, Caris couldn’t have loved him more. Caris had always held a spot in her heart for him. He was a special person to her, friends since pre-school, through primary school. Andrew had always know how to get Caris to stop crying, to breath and to laugh at even her worst of times. They loved each other, though they weren’t in love. Or so Caris thought. Andrew had began to see his best friend in a different light. He thought she was simply amazing, although he knew he could never win her heart completely.
Caris smiled at Andrew, the feeling of friendship and love making an unwilling smile at him. Andrew looked back at her, noticing something about her. Her eyes seemed duller, no more sparkle that used to fill them.
“Caris... Your eyes.” Andrew said sadly.
“What about them?” Caris asked, worriedly.
“They’ve lost they’re sparkle.” Andrew said quietly, looking away.
Caris snorted, shaking her head, and continued on walking. “So how was your holiday? What did you do?” Caris asked, making conversation.
“Well. Not very much. Went to Canberra. I don’t really like it there, it’s too cold.” Andrew smiled down at his best friend, and the girl he wished to call his own. “
My holidays were shit. Absolutely shitty.” Caris said, and she looked away, suppressing a shiver.
“Caris.” Andrew said, grabbing her and hugging her tightly.
“It hurts so badly.” Caris whimpered, her voice quiet, fading into the wind.
Andrew hugged her tighter still, and wished that she was his. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted another girl in his lifetime. Automatically, his arms dropped, and he pulled back.
“Come on Amorcita. Don’t cry.” He grabbed her by the wrist, and started to pull her along, itching to move his grip down to her hand.

As the teacher droned on about ‘Bonjour’ and ‘CommentAllez-Vous’, with Andrew and Charity next to her, Caris was drowning in a pool of thoughts. Not swimming. The thoughts were beginning to over-power her, pulling her down. ‘How could he do this to me?’ One part of her heart moaned. ‘He didn’t know...’ Another part argued back. The tiny cracks in her heart were getting bigger, like the cracks in the pavement after an earthquake. That’s how she felt. Damaged. Torn. Like a war zone. By the end of the class, Caris was in a world of her own, and she was blaming herself for the things she could never control. Her sadness had spiralled into a deep depression by the end of the day. She was taking nothing in, and letting nothing out. Not even Andrew could pull her out of the darkness absorbing her. Andrew followed Caris home, in hope to break through her shield. He wished he had a bulldozer to knock down her protective wall, but instead, a mere spade.
When Caris reached her doorstep, she spun around swiftly, towards Andrew and screamed “What? What are you doing? Why do you insist on following me? It hurts to know that the person I love won’t touch me with a ten foot pole, yet the ones that love me, SMOTHER ME!”
Caris looked dangerously angry, but there was a sadness beyond the light blue eyes, which were masquerading as anger. She searched through her bag for her front door keys and abruptly dismissed Andrew. She walked into her house, slamming to door in Andrew’s face. He closed his eyes for a moment, before flying open as he realised he knew where Caris kept her spare key. He quickly ran his fingers over the top of the door frame. As his fingers brushed over a cold spot, his fingers closed around the key. He let himself into the house and looked around him, trying to find some trace of evidence as to where she could be.
Caris had stormed upstairs to pick herself apart in the mirror, mentally draining herself. She scanned the bathroom, and her eyes fell onto a small mental container, where she kept her spare razor blades. A sick thought popped into her mind, and she took the lid off the little tin. She picked up a blade, hesitating about her wrist, she wondered if this could possibly hurt as much as her heart did. Caris closed her eyes, and pushed the blade down.

Meanwhile ,Andrew had been searching the house for his lovely friend. When he got to the top of the stairs, he noticed that the bathroom light was on; the only light that was turned on. Andrew walked forward, his steps as quiet as he could possibly make them. He quietly turned the knob of the bathroom door, and it swung open to reveal something that made his stomach churn. There stood Caris Turner-Tyrin. She had tears streaming down her cheeks, blood streaming down her arm, with drops splattering onto the ground. The tips of her hair were covered in blood, making stains on her school uniform. The tap was running, almost over-flowing with water. Caris spun away from the sink, the blade clattering to the ground. Andrew was in shock, in fear, of the girl he had known for so long, doing such a horrible thing to herself.
“CARIS!” Andrew yelled out, and Caris let out a little moan, and thrust her wrist into the sink, the water splashing, and falling over the white tiles.
Andrew watched in horror as the water began to turn a disgusting shade of crimson. He felt the urge to throw-up, repressing it, thinking of Caris. Andrew looked around, quickly grabbing a wad of toilet paper, yanking her arm out of the sink, he plastered it to her wounds, while she was bawling, screaming at him to let her do it, to let herself cut until she bled. This only made Andrew work faster, harder. He pulled the medicine cabinet open, scanning it for a bandage. On finding one, he pulled it out, unravelling it. Caris was squirming away from his hands. On feeling her struggle, he tightened his grip.
“STOP IT ANDREW! IT HURTS, IT HURTS!” Caris screamed out, trying to break free from the pressure he was putting onto her wounds, trying to constrict the blood.
“YEAH, WELL YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT!” Andrew yelled back at her.
He put the toilet lid down, and sat her down on it. He kneeled down next to her, pulled the toilet paper off the cuts, and tossed it in the bin. Beginning to wind the bandage around her wrists, he looked up at her.
“What the hell were you thinking, Caris? Jesus Christ, look at the mess!” Andrew said, his voice quiet, full of anger, and worry.
Caris looked up, and glanced around the bathroom, splats of her own blood scattered throughout the room. Her head began to spin, and the rusty salt smell started to become clear. She felt the bile rise in her throat, and she grabbed the bin, throwing up into it, tearing her wrist away from Andrew, half finished. When she was done, she got back up, kneeling on the ground next to Andrew.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered quietly, almost inaudibly. The tears started coming down, faster and faster. “I’m a mess. I don’t know who I am anymore.” Andrew took her arm again, once again winding the bandage, more gently now.
“Caris. I don’t understand why you would do this.” He said, the image of Caris, with her own blood streaming freely down her arm flitting through his head.
He gritted his teeth, and willed his memory to let him forget it.
“I’ve gotta clean this up.” Caris said softly, raising to her feet. She walked over to the sink ,and stuck her right hand into the scarlet mess, and holding her breath, she yanked out the plug. The water gurgled and slipped down the drain. Next she bent down, and picked up the blade. She held it under the running water, and once clear of blood, she replaced in the canister. She glanced at Andrew, who had an incredulous look on his face.
“I still need to shave my legs, Andrew. I’m not going to throw away a perfectly good blade because of what it was used for.” Caris spat icily at him.
She took a face washer from the closet next to the bathroom door, and began to mop up the blood on the floor. After five minutes intense cleaning, the bathroom had very little evidence, and was airing out. Caris turned to Andrew, her eyes like black holes. Empty and endless.
“You should go now. I need to get changed.” Caris stared at him.
He flinched away from her eyes. There was nothing intimidating about her eyes, he just didn’t like the emptiness in them. It was like looking at a corpses eyes. He nodded. They left the bathroom, and as he was about to descend the stairs, he turned around.
“Bye Caris. Take care of yourself.” He said. Caris just stared at him, and with that he was down the stairs, and gone.