A Fading Memory

My fingers twitched in the bath water as bubbles flowed over them. I tried to twitch my toes too, trying my hardest to move them. I could barely feel my muscles flexing but a strange ache flooded my feet. Stella suggested that if I tried to move I might regain some movement. I hoped so. I knew I wouldn't be able to walk again, but I could at least try.

I sighed and shuffled forwards, trying to block out the voices from downstairs, discussing me. 'He's so depressed, isn't he? It's not like him at all. His hair's black, that's not like Sean at all!'

I just woke up one morning and decided I wanted black hair. Black, like the darkness and emptiness I felt. Black like the darkness in my soul. My skin had whitened by about 50 shades and I looked like death. My face was covered in red welts of teenage scars and they all ached painfully. The skin on my arms was blotchy and patched, almost bruised. A sob escaped my lips.

"Ssh, lovely," Chris’ gentle voice filled my ears and his hand rested on my shoulder. "I'm here, I'll always be here when you need me." He placed a chaste kiss to the scar on my temple. He pulled me closer into him for a hug, his hands roaming through my freshly dyed black hair.

"Chris, I'm so confused!" I sobbed, gripping his shirt needily. I felt desperately sick and tired of seeing him, and hearing the conflicting stories in my head. I wanted him and his loving words but I wanted him to go. I just wanted him to leave my fragile mind alone so I could rebuild myself without him.

"Sean you need me, you know deep down that you do." He whispered softly, kissing my lips gently. His fingers sprawled across my cheeks and his forehead rested against mine.

Staring into his black eyes, I believed him. Without his late night hugs and kisses I would be a wreck. Nightmares and loneliness would take me over. I loved every single night with him, just lying there talking. I breathed out deeply and closed my eyes.

Christian wasn't real.

I couldn't live with imaginary friend all my life. Not even if I loved him more than anyone in the universe. Chris made me feel things Josh could only dream of stimulating in me. It was like every smile gave me one of my missing pieces and every kiss fitted it perfectly into place. It came with the cost of my mental trauma, it was the unhealthy and dangerous way to heal. Despite all that, it was the way I wanted to heal. Even if it meant spending hours arguing with myself, driving myself insane, Chris was worth it.

"It's like the more time we spend together, the more our bodies become one," the boy laughed, glancing down my disabled body. "Look," He gestured to my ribs, trailing his fingers across every one. He smiled, lifting his own shirt up to show me his. "It's like our bodies are the same. Cute, isn’t it?" He laughed again.

I smiled, shocked at how much weight I'd lost. Both our bodies looked like mangled messes of starved children. Chris noticed my shame. "Sean? What's wrong?" He slipped his hand beneath the water and took my hand. His eyes were filled with concern.

"Why do you hang around me?" I asked meekly, blushing. It was a stupid question really, asking my imaginary friend why he was friends with me. His free hand moved to cup my cheek, forcing me to look him in the eye. His dark chocolate eyes shone with his boyish charm and innocence.

"I love you, Sean," He said quietly and sincerely. His snow white face turned deep crimson and he looked down. "I don't know why I just... do. You're pretty, I like your eyes. And your smile, and your little giggle. The black suits you, I hope you think so too. But anyway, Seanie. I love you for reasons I can't explain, because there are too many." He giggled, biting his lip. He looked up to see my reaction.

Christian wasn't real.

Chris was only saying that because somewhere deep down in my mind, I wanted it to be said. No one would ever love me, so my mind gives me Chris’ love.

But maybe love was what I needed. Even if it was just a lie that I'd fabricated to protect myself, what if it helped? What if Chris helped show me the brighter side of life. Afterall, he was a part of me, a deeper part of my mind where all the positive things live. What if I turned him down now, maybe I'd never see him smile again. Chris’ smile was the foundation of my recovery. He was my only hope of recovering.

"I love you too." I whispered softly, pulling him closer towards me for a kiss. His lips moulded perfectly against mine and his tongue slipped between my lips. His hands gripped my hair forcefully, deepening the kiss. Crazy butterflies erupted in my stomach and my body ached with strange tingles. I massaged his pierced lips with mine, fighting his tongue with all the strength I could muster. Slowly, he pulled away, his teeth clinging to my bottom lip.

"The only hope for me is you alone." I whispered, staring him straight in the eye. "Do you promise to help me get better, Christian?" I asked desperately.

His face lit up and he nodded, kissing me delicately. "If you help me to forget what they did to me? Don't let me become some fading memory." He asked quietly. I nodded in return and twitched my toes in the bath. This time, I felt life.