Crawling in the Dark

Xenith

I couldn't believe I had just done that. What was wrong with me? I didn't know.

How could I have taken advantage of her trust, her kindness.

I just wanted her to feel better. She showed me her scars and I wanted to help them fade.

There was no way her scars would fade if I traumatized her like that. I was giving her new scars, wasn't I? That shouldn't happen. She shouldn't even have scars in the first place!

Even if she did have feelings for me (unlikely), she would only get hurt when I screwed things up. I couldn't handle screwing things up again. It would be too much for me. That kiss never happened. That's how it should be. I was high, but not too high to know what I was doing. Or to mean it. God, did I mean it. I was only uninhibited.

She didn't need to know that.

I skipped the rest of the school day, hanging out behind the gym, wallowing in guilt.

Jogging home, I tried to clear my head of thoughts of her. It was impossible. She was everything I had ever wanted. Someone like me, someone who understood. She was perfect, she was beautiful, she was amazing.

I knew I needed to calm down, I had only known her for one day. How did I know anything about her? I didn't, and until I did I should reserve judgment. Should, but still....

Chill, Xenith, chill.

I couldn't stop the thoughts from swirling around my head.

She cared about me. I was hideous and broken, and she cared. She cared enough to follow me into an alleyway, and after I had done drugs she stayed with me.

We could be friends. She had to be lonely, and I could be companionable enough to satisfy her needs for human interaction. Friendly interaction. Nothing more.

With that, I made my way through the front door, carefully avoiding the mirror above the entry table. I sighed, flopped onto the bed and lost myself in thoughts of her. As they always did, my thoughts turned bitter, a reminder of what I always was to my parents, to myself. I wasn't me, I wasn't Xenith, I was someone else. I couldn't even bear to think the name of who I knew I was. I let myself drift, trying to fight of the darkness of my thoughts. I knew I didn't deserve that. I had wallowed for to long, there was no point in continuing. I let my mind fade into the gray of unconsciousness, rather than blackness of hate.

The next morning, I slipped on fresh clothes, feeling invigorated. After carefully avoiding my parents, I jogged to school, the October air swirling around my face.

I never really had many friends, and it would be a relief to have someone to talk to. That is, if she wanted to be my friend. She was so nice, and good. Although, she was damaged, like me. It also didn't look like she had made any friends. I could help her, get to know her. I could be someone to confide in.

The very thought had me sprinting down the sidewalk.

I slipped into the classroom, and took my seat next to her. I smiled, and she blushed at me.

Of course, she was embarrassed about yesterday.

"Hey, Charlie," I whispered, "what happened yesterday? I was high as a kite."

Her eyes widened and she gasped. "Uhm, well, nothing really..." she murmured. I knew it. Although my heart still kept hoping that she had wanted to kiss me, I now knew that she really just wanted to forget that.

It made me feel slightly better to be able to give her something for once, even if it was her dignity, which I never should've taken in the first place.

"Oh, okay," I said pleasantly, hoping that I sufficiently concealed my disappointment.

Apparently, I did well, because she smiled brightly at me.

"You never did get to your 2nd period class did you?" I asked. That was a friendly question, wasn't it?

"No, and I can't remember where half of my other classes are, either," she groaned, cutely exasperated.

"Sounds like you need a tour guide," I said, "and I know just the guy."

With a raised eyebrow she responded, "Oh really, who might that be?"

"I'll give you one guess."