The Scars on Your Heart

Oli had refeeding syndrome. I couldn't think of anything but that for the rest of the day. Oli had refeeding syndrome and he could die. I wasn't paying attention to the maths, or the English, or the Spanish that Oli took almost every year because he could never get it right. I paid some attention to Music, however, only because Mr. Jem had big news.

"This music room has been donated a piano! We will have a piano in a week!" He said, grinning wide. That was exciting for me because I hadn't played music in a year and a half. I wished Oli could be there to see the new piano - he could work on bringing some of his songs to life. But right now, he was fighting for his life. All because of a stupid disorder that had to attack his brain and not someone else's.

I ate by myself at dinner, shoveling mediocre spaghetti into my mouth in a frustrated manner. I even went up for seconds. It was ridiculous, the amount I ate. I guess I needed something to take my mind off of it, and the perfect thing for that was a painfully filled stomach.

I trudged back up two flights of stairs to the third floor and when I finally made it to my room, I simply collapsed in my bed. Oli had been here just hours ago. And now he was in a hospital, probably dying because of his electrolytes being so messed up that they caused heart failure. I couldn't be there. That was the worst part of it all. I couldn't be there for him. Yeah, he had George, but George had to return to work at night! That's what I'd heard Maskell say anyway. Oli would be all alone in a hospital, in pain, with all these IVs and needles stuck into him. He'd have to drink weird stuff for days on end. And he'd have a lot of blood work done, too, which I'm sure he wouldn't mind, but I mind it. I don't want my love to be stabbed in the arm over and over!

Since I thought about it, I realized that the hospital's methods weren't all too different from Oli's methods of self-harm. He stabbed himself over and over again in the arm. He would purposely drink poisonous things to kill himself. And the hospital was just making him do it over again.

I rolled over onto my bloated stomach, feeling tears begin to well in my eyes. I forced them back for a few minutes, just focusing on how hard I was trying not to cry. I was silently applauding myself. Usually when I need to cry, it just comes out. This time I was holding it ba--

The tears starting falling onto my pillow. I missed Oli so much that I was crying. Well, it was a combination of missing him and the fact that he was being tortured. Fuck.

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I stayed in that position for the rest of the night, not even bothering to brush my teeth or change out of my day clothes. I didn't sleep, but the night went by pretty fast. So I may have slept a little.

In the morning the first thing I did other than eat breakfast and take my Lamictal was ask George
if I could go visit Oli. And he said, "No, unfortunately, you can't." And I nearly ran to Dean Maskell's office and punched her in the face. She wasn't allowing me to go see my only friend who could die. And she probably wouldn't let me go to his funeral either. It was her own fault! She was the one who insisted we get along! I should at least get ONE visit for however long he stays. One visit would do me good, just to know whether I needed to say goodbye or not.

During breakfast, Max and Dan came up to me where I was sitting by myself. Max tapped my shoulder, and before I even turned around I knew who it was. "What do you want? Here to laugh because Oli's about to fucking die?!" I nearly shouted. Dan cocked an eyebrow, and Max shook his head.

"No, what kind of assholes do you take us for?" He said, and I nearly rolled my eyes so hard they flew out of my head.

"What kind of assholes do I take you for? Well, for starters -"

Dan cut me off. "We're not here to make fun of you or Oliver."

"We're here to apologize. For shunning you." Max said, and I looked over to Chris and Matt on the other side of the dining hall, and they gave me half-hearted smiles.

"Why, exactly?" I asked, cocking my head and resting my chin on my fist.

"Well, we kind of need you. We didn't realize it until a little while back, but you're like, the glue that holds us crazies together." Max laughed. I shook my head.

"Why should I go back to you after what you did? After what you were going to do to Oli?" I asked, my eyes flicking between Max and Dan and occasionally back to Chris and Matt.

"We don't have a good reason for you to, but we were just hoping that you would. We miss you and we need you." Dan said, seeing that Max was struggling to get the words out. "We won't make fun of Oli anymore. We see that you really care about him. But if we find out that you're--"

"Dan! What did we agree?" Max interjected.

Dan let out an exasperated sigh. "Even if you're gay for him. We won't even consider it an issue. Just don't expect us to include him in anything. We're just making exceptions for you to come back. Nothing for him. We don't want our image to be ruined."

I thought about it for a moment. I really did miss those guys, no matter how big of assholes they were. And they were pretty much my only friends other than Oli. And Oli was gone and he might not come back. "Okay." I said with a crooked smile, and Max and Dan high-fived. Then in the background Matt and Chris did as well.

"Come sit with us, mate! You're all lonely over here." Max said, turning around and walking back to the other side of the dining hall. Dan did the same, and I picked up my tray and followed them. There was a group of boys - couldn't be more than nine years old - who were sitting near us, and they chuckled when I walked by. I felt my blood begin to boil. I hated when people laughed at me. Well, anyone would, but I really hated it. Enough to blow a nine-year-old's brains out.

But, I had promised Oli that when he was gone (even though I meant after his birthday), I'd turn my anger into something positive. Like a good insult. "Hey little guys," I said after I sat my tray down in my usual spot beside Max and Dan, walking over to the boys and kneeling by them.

"What do you want, you big gaylord?" The smallest one said.

"That's not what your mom called me when I fucked her brains out." I replied with a smirk, and his face turned red and the other boys made a collective "ooooh" noise. "But seriously, why were you guys laughing?"

"Because you're a big fat gaylord, that's why!"

"Josh, come on!" Dan said, and I looked over my shoulder to see him waving me over. I held up my finger to tell him to give me a minute, and then looked back at the boy who had just spoken.

"Why do you say that?"

"You're gay with Oliver Sykes. Everyone knows that." Really? Of course not. But if these babies knew it, then didn't that mean the rest of the guys knew it, too?

"No, I'm not. He's not gay either. You know who is gay, though? Yo-"

"No, you're gay. We heard you kissed him on the ground at Camden." I felt my cheeks lose color and my fury getting more intense by the second. So, everyone knew? For real?

Next thing I knew, I had two of the boys' heads on the table, my fists tangled in their long hair. "Who told you?!" I shouted, and one of them hesitated to answer, so I slammed their heads on the table again. "Tell me!"

"Lee Malia gave everyone the information but we didn't hear it personally from him!" One of the boys said, beginning to cry. I saw a security guard coming my way, so I let go of their heads and backhanded them both before running out the double doors and into the hallway.

"Joshua!" George shouted, and I looked back to see him running after me. I sped up the stairs and down the third floor hallway to my room, slamming the door behind me.

Damn it! No lock. George would catch up to me soon enough.

Wait. What if the information had gotten to Maskell, too? She would freak and probably separate Oli and I! God damn it! I sat in the chair by my desk, just waiting for someone to barge in and take me to the safe room. It was after about 30 seconds that I realized I was biting my nails and tapping my toes. I wasn't nervous about the safe room. I was nervous about a lot of things in that moment, but it was mainly the fact that not only might Oli die, but if he did happen to come back we wouldn't be able to see each other often, if at all. And then after November 20th, we'd never see each other again.

Fuck! I felt tears streaming down my cheeks and I quickly wiped them away as someone turned the door handle. "Get the fuck out!" I shouted, jumping up from my spot. George walked in with his hands held up in attempted surrender.

"Hey, I'm just here to talk to you. I talked the guys out of sending you to the safe room." He said, lowering his hands slowly and approaching me with caution. I probably looked stupid, standing there with my fists balled and my eyes filled with fire but at the same time crying and sniffling like a baby. "I probably should've told you sooner, but Lee Malia did see and did tell." He spoke softly and I covered my face with my hands. Things could not get any worse. "He also told Dean Maskell."

"No! I'm gonna kill him!" I shouted, and before George had time to say anything else, I pushed past him and ran back down the stairs to the dining hall. I scanned the room for Malia and his buddies, and the instant I found them I began charging towards Lee. George was coming up behind me, and I'm sure I was wearing him out. That was no fair because he took such good care of Oli and I. But I had to get rid of Malia. It made sense in my mind that if I got rid of Malia all of the stuff he'd done would go away. But then I didn't realize that if I got rid of him there would be mad repercussions for me and everyone would still remember everything. "Fuck you, Lee!" I shouted as I came up behind him and grabbed him by his long, thin hair, smashing his head on the table time and time again. George's arms were around my waist but I was stronger than him by a lot. I pulled Lee up so that he was standing, his forehead bloody and his nose bleeding and appearing to be broken. I kicked him in the stomach, which sent him reeling backwards, and then stomped on his leg about three times until I heard a loud crack. In the moment I was satisfied with myself and wanted to do more, but part of me was aching that I'd broken my promise already.

Three guards had me on the floor and were shouting at me to stop struggling before picking me up and throwing me into the safe room on the first floor. Once I was alone, the danger of what I'd just done really hit me. I could easily go to jail, if I wasn't already in a treatment center. And I'd probably be put on one-to-one for a few days at the least. And Lee Malia, no matter how much I hate him, had a broken leg and nose and a busted up forehead. Probably a concussion. It's amazing how strong you can get when you're motivated enough to hurt something or someone.

I brought my knees up to my chest and burrowed my head in between them, resuming my crying that I had stopped the instant I locked my sight on Lee. I looked up to the tiny window in the door and sniffed, seeing George standing there with a disappointed look on his face. I couldn't handle that, so I put my head back between my knees and began to sob.

I had already broken my promise to Oli. Who knew what that meant for the future when he was gone completely? I had an idea. Jail time.

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The instant they let me out of the safe room three hours later was weird. George offered to let me skip the rest of my classes and go visit Oli. "You can't act out while you're there," He told me. "If you do, we'll have to put you on one-to-one." I nodded vigorously, ready to go see my, er... boyfriend. If that was what you could call him. George had already asked the Dean's permission and she had said yes, so he put me on one of the activity buses and drove me to the hospital.