Kissing in Cars

-Vic's POV-

I dug around at the end of my bunk to find my clothes. I pulled on a pair of dark skinny jeans and a white Drop Dead t-shirt. I pulled a black beanie over my smooth hair and grabbed a red, plaid button down shirt. I flinched in pain whenever my hand came in contact with anything remotely solid. I admired how good of a job Kellin did on bandaging my hand. The single, thick scar running across the width of my wrist was just about visible bellow the bandage. The scarred, silver skin glistened beneath the dim light. I'm not exactly sure how Kellin hadn't noticed it, but I wasn't complaining. I didn't want him to think I was weak when he's the one who needs a friend right now. I tried to blink away the memories that came with the scar but they soon flooded my mind.

'Vic! Vic, open the door! Please, Vic, just open it!' Mike's voice was a mumbled blur in my head. The sound of the knife clattering to the floor echoed through my head. I could feel myself slipping out of consciousness. I looked down at the blood pooling around me, soaking through my clothes. I'd cut too deep. I just needed to feel something. I'd become so numb and frustrated with myself. The feeling of depression was one of the most horrific things I'd ever felt, but compared to the numbness, depression was a dream. The feeling of being numb was borderline unbearable. I felt so empty. I just needed to feel something, anything. I needed to let it out to feel some sort of relief. So I tipped my head back and dragged the blade along the thinnest section of skin I could find on my wrist.
When Mike burst in, I was slouching on the floor against the bath, blood pooling around me, my wrist lying limp on the floor, the knife thrown not far from me. The last thing I remembered before waking up in hospital was the look on Mike's face. He looked so young again, like a child. That's when the regret kicked in. He'd never witnessed anything like this. It felt as if I'd just stolen his innocence. He's my baby brother, he shouldn't have to be exposed to this kind of thing. No one should. I'd let him down. I'd just about managed to look him in the eye before cold, black hands pulled me into the darkness. The hands were the part of me that wanted to die, the part that wanted to just get it over with. Mike's hands wrestled with the beast's and dragged me out of the bathroom.
Ever since that night, Mike has taken a couple of minutes out of his time every day without fail just to talk to me and let me know he's there to talk to. I appreciated the gesture, but I couldn't talk to him about it. I couldn't talk to anyone about it, not even the psychologist my parents had sent me to. I feared that if I spoke, the monster occupying my thoughts would creep out of me and into someone else. It was a feeling I wouldn't even wish upon my worst of enemies. So I learned not to talk about it. I couldn't smudge peoples happiness with my problems.

A shudder rippled through me as I was brought back to reality. Kellin's concerned eyes sliced into my vacant expression. His small, reassuring hand rubbed my shoulder as I fell into him and threw my arms around him. He wrapped his arms round me without hesitation. I could never let this beautiful soul find out about my old destructive habit. It would tear him apart-not because it's me, but because he just couldn't handle a situation like that right now. Or ever. He wasn't weak, more like fragile. I had to be strong for us both. I tried to shake the thought of him finding out. No. It couldn't happen. And I'd do everything in my power to prevent him from knowing.