Status: Hi. I will try to update everyday, even if nobody reads it :P
Complicated.
Chapter 6
*Marri's P.O.V.*
I wiped my eyes and sat on the ground. I signaled him to sit next to me and he did. My mind was racing. What just happened? He hugged me for more than 10 seconds, and he kissed me on the forehead. I mean, I just met him, and he's acting like he's known me for years. I'm not complaining, I'm just surprised. I took my jacket off and put it on my lap, and looked at the ground. I sat there before I noticed John looking at me again. Then I realized he was looking at my arms, at my scars. I quickly put my arms under my coat, but he grabbed my arm.
"What are these from?" he asked, sounding worried. He continued to examine my arm.
"Oh you know, my cat." I lied. I couldn't tell him the truth. Not yet.
"Those scars are not from a cat, " he said, then looked at me. "What are they from?"
I looked down, feeling the tears come back again.
"Myself." I whispered. He gave me a strange look.
"What do you mean 'Yourself'" he asked. I looked down at my lap, feeling the tears come. He looked like he finally processed this in his brain.
"So, you self harmed?" he asked. He sounded worried. I just shook my head, feeling more tears. He put his arm around me, kissing my forehead again.
"It's ok, just tell me what happened." he said.
"Promise you won't tell anybody?" I said, looking at him. He nodded his head waiting for me to explain.
"Well, in the seventh grade, I was bullied, severely. I fell into depression. I didn't feel like going anywhere, or doing anything. Every day I would come to school and get shoved. People would call me 'worthless' and 'pathetic'. In the eighth grade it just got worse. That's when I started to cut. It got so bad, I would cut everyday, " I paused, looking up at John. He was starring directly at me, waiting for me to keep going.
"Then one day someone called me 'fat', and I went home and looked in the mirror. They were right. I looked in the mirror everyday, hating the thing starring back at me. I stopped eating, and got severely ill." I looked up at John again. He was still listening.
"And then in the ninth grade, I couldn't take it anymore, " I started to cry. Instead of telling him, I showed him the biggest scar, on my wrist. He gave me a worried look, and pulled me closer to him. I sat there crying on his shoulder. I looked up at him.
"So, you tried to commit suicide?" he asked. I just nodded my head, still crying. He continued to stare at me.
"Well I'm glad you didn't, or else I would have never met you." He said. I looked up at him, trying to smile.
Then we just sat there, until the bell rang. He got up, and held out his hand. I got up and put my jacket back on. We walked back to Mr. Rigors classroom and grabbed our stuff. Luckily, Mr. Rigors left.
I showed John were his next class was, and we both went on with our day.
I wiped my eyes and sat on the ground. I signaled him to sit next to me and he did. My mind was racing. What just happened? He hugged me for more than 10 seconds, and he kissed me on the forehead. I mean, I just met him, and he's acting like he's known me for years. I'm not complaining, I'm just surprised. I took my jacket off and put it on my lap, and looked at the ground. I sat there before I noticed John looking at me again. Then I realized he was looking at my arms, at my scars. I quickly put my arms under my coat, but he grabbed my arm.
"What are these from?" he asked, sounding worried. He continued to examine my arm.
"Oh you know, my cat." I lied. I couldn't tell him the truth. Not yet.
"Those scars are not from a cat, " he said, then looked at me. "What are they from?"
I looked down, feeling the tears come back again.
"Myself." I whispered. He gave me a strange look.
"What do you mean 'Yourself'" he asked. I looked down at my lap, feeling the tears come. He looked like he finally processed this in his brain.
"So, you self harmed?" he asked. He sounded worried. I just shook my head, feeling more tears. He put his arm around me, kissing my forehead again.
"It's ok, just tell me what happened." he said.
"Promise you won't tell anybody?" I said, looking at him. He nodded his head waiting for me to explain.
"Well, in the seventh grade, I was bullied, severely. I fell into depression. I didn't feel like going anywhere, or doing anything. Every day I would come to school and get shoved. People would call me 'worthless' and 'pathetic'. In the eighth grade it just got worse. That's when I started to cut. It got so bad, I would cut everyday, " I paused, looking up at John. He was starring directly at me, waiting for me to keep going.
"Then one day someone called me 'fat', and I went home and looked in the mirror. They were right. I looked in the mirror everyday, hating the thing starring back at me. I stopped eating, and got severely ill." I looked up at John again. He was still listening.
"And then in the ninth grade, I couldn't take it anymore, " I started to cry. Instead of telling him, I showed him the biggest scar, on my wrist. He gave me a worried look, and pulled me closer to him. I sat there crying on his shoulder. I looked up at him.
"So, you tried to commit suicide?" he asked. I just nodded my head, still crying. He continued to stare at me.
"Well I'm glad you didn't, or else I would have never met you." He said. I looked up at him, trying to smile.
Then we just sat there, until the bell rang. He got up, and held out his hand. I got up and put my jacket back on. We walked back to Mr. Rigors classroom and grabbed our stuff. Luckily, Mr. Rigors left.
I showed John were his next class was, and we both went on with our day.
♠ ♠ ♠
yepp....