The Scars on Your Heart

I sat over at my desk, feeling myself getting worked up more and more by the second. A tear fell from my face and onto my music theory book, and then I just kind of stopped holding myself up. My face was on the book now and I was crying pretty hard, when I felt Josh touch my back and heard him kneel next to me. He asked what was wrong and I gave him the honest answer.

"You're a fucking liar!" I cried, which was true. He was. He didn't like my lyrics, he didn't want to be friends, all of this was pure bullshit. "My lyrics suck, don't deny it. And I'm fat. And I mess everything up. I'm a failure." I took a deep breath and then continued to sob. "Why didn't they let me die?" I swung my head back and looked up at the ceiling, knowing that my mum and dad could hear me. "Fuck you mum, dad! Fuck you!" I screamed, hoping that it would hurt their ears. They should've just left me alone in my room that day when I was nine, should've just taken a look and gone away. But no, they had to call an ambulance take me to A&E and get my arms sewn up like the bloody cunts they are. And then after a month in the hospital's psychiatric ward, they sent me here. Like that was supposed to make everything better. Well, mum, dad, it just made everything a whole lot worse. I could only see Matt twice a month (sometimes once), my parents came to visit me even less, and I was surrounded by people who hated me and wanted me to die. Well, I hated them, too. But today was their lucky day.

I looked over at Josh. "You don't want to be friends, do you?" I asked, already knowing the answer. I wanted so bad to be his friend and maybe even more than that, but he just sat there and lied to me with a straight face. "You just used me for help in creative writing and for your song. You still hate me, and you're going to ditch me as soon as you get the chance!" I shouted at him, and noticed him cringe. He was lying again. That didn't hurt his feelings. It was making him laugh inside. I stomped over to the window and punched it, letting out a scream and then continuing to feel angry tears stream down my face. I hated being alive. It was getting less and less easy. "I hate you!" He opened his mouth to say something but I shot him down. "I hate you so much! Go tell your friends that, too! And tell Lee and the other Matt and Jordan, and tell everybody I hate them! This is fucking hell..." I muttered at the end, placing my palm to my forehead and sniffing. Then I remembered my intention. I walked over to my bag, hearing Josh say something but not quite comprehending it. He stepped in front of me and I simply backhanded him, which sent him back into his bed. I pulled out my box cutter and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind me and standing in front of the mirror. I didn't want to look because I knew all I'd see was a big blob of fat with an ugly face. I heard Josh banging on the door.

"Oli, you better get out here before I fucking kill you," Josh threatened, and I took the box cutter and made the first slice in my arm. I made sure to go deep.

"Go the fuck ahead!" I screamed, sincerely wanting him to do it so I didn't have to bear the shame of saying I did it myself. "Do it! Please! Just kill me!" He didn't respond and I frowned, gritting my teeth as I cut through the skin on my wrist again. Blood instantly began flooding out and I smiled. Maybe this was actually going to be the end. Thank god.

I cut again and again and again, going until I started to get severely light-headed and nauseous. I tried to step away from the sink but I fell. I was down for at least a minute, everything aching from the lack of blood. Why didn't I cut vertically? It would be over quicker. It was too late, though. I reached over with my blade but couldn't find the energy to make it all the way to my other arm, so I dropped my arm onto the ground. Damn cast. I could've cut there, too.

I heard Josh shouting and I looked up at the ceiling, the white dots blending together. Everything was spinning. There was a small noise as the door opened, and Josh came in, leaning over me. I couldn't get my eyes to focus on him. Then he left. "Don't leave me," I uttered under my breath, drawing in a quick, sharp breath afterwards. "don't."

----------

I woke up really cold, my arms hurting like hell. I let out a yelp when I opened my eyes, seeing as I didn't know where I was and I was in extreme pain. I looked next to me and there was an IV bag on a pole, and the room was blue with little murals of puppies and a rainbow. That was when I knew where I was. I'd seen this room before. I was in goddamn A&E. The same room as when I was nine and my parents brought me here. I looked down at my arm I had cut. Stitches lining almost every square inch.

"Help," I croaked, using my cast arm to press the "call nurse" button. Within seconds a nurse was in my room. I told her that I was hurting, so she gave me medicine. I told her that I was cold, so she gave me a blanket. Then she left, and I was all alone.

After a few minutes, just as the pain medicine began to kick in, Dean Maskell walked in with a sad smile on her face. "Oh, Mr. Sykes," She spoke, her shrill voice hurting my ears. "what are we going to do with you?" I stared her in the eye, too doped up to look angry. "This is the sixth time you've stolen that box cutter. Sixth. I bet you're wondering why you aren't in the infirmary." I nodded. "Because you were near death, Oliver, that's why!" She nearly shouted. "You're a danger to yourself and to others, Oliver, and we can't allow such an inconvenience." What did she mean by that?

"What?" I was slurring my words so it sounded more like "whaaa...?"

"The staff considered sending you to the regional hospital for the remainder of your life, but seeing as you're not eighteen, we couldn't do that." As the sentence started I drew in a deep breath, but as it ended I let out a sigh of relief. The regional hospital was where the crazy people went. Sure, I nearly killed myself twice now, but that didn't mean I was crazy. "We decided to give you one last chance. One," She said. "and if you don't use it wisely, we will send you back to your parents, giving them instructions to put you in holding until you're old enough to be a resident of the regional hospital."

That left me terrified. "You should've just let me die." That kind of slipped out. Dean Maskell's eyes widened, but not for long. "That way I wouldn't be such an, oh, what's the word... inconvenience." It sounded funny coming out of my mouth because I was so high from whatever medicine they gave to me, but it seemed to the trick. The dean walked out of the room without another word. Then she peeked back in.

"Oh, by the way, Oliver, we allowed Josh to visit." Damn! After everything I'd said to him he came to visit me?

Slowly, Josh came into my view, and I felt the most nervous I'd ever felt, even after all that stuff the dean had said to me. He looked shy, hurt, but relieved. "Hi, Oli." He said quietly, coming to my bedside. I didn't know what to say to him, so I didn't say anything at all. I could've at least said "I'm sorry" but no, for some reason I wouldn't let myself do that. "I know you're mad at me," He paused. "but I don't know why. Can you tell me why?" He asked, kinder than ever even though he was trying to pry.

"Because you're a liar." I spoke plainly, and watched his eyes grow sad.

"I know, you called me that, but why did you call me that?" He asked, taking my left hand and sending a surge of pain up through my arm. I winced and he immediately let go. "Sorry."

"It's fine," I replied, growing groggy. "I called you that because you said my lyrics were good enough when they're not. They never have been and never will be. And you said you wanted to be my friend." I was starting to doubt my logic now, seeing as he came to visit me in fucking A&E and grabbed my hand, for god's sake. "But..."

"Oli, do you think I'd write an entire song around your lyrics if I didn't like them?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow. It took a moment but eventually I shook my head. "And I do want to be your friend. Fuck Max and Dan, I'd rather be friends with you. You're better than they are. They're judgmental arseholes. And Oli..." He said, looking down at my body. "you're not fucking fat."

I shook my head and looked away from him. He looked too sincere. He was lying again. "You just don't want to get in trouble." I said, feeling my eyes begin to well again. God, I cried too much. I needed to toughen up. "You just don't want Maskell to send you home. We have to get along, remember?" I looked back at him, surprised to see tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Oli, why won't you listen to me?" He asked, looking at me with his deep blue, sad eyes and instantly making me regret everything I said. But I couldn't let my guard down; he could be doing that on purpose.

"Because you're lying, that's why!" I said, and now both of us were a mess of ugly sobbing.

"No, I'm not! I swear. Swear on my soul." Josh said, and he seemed so truthful. "Damn me to eternal suffering if I'm lying." He looked up at the ceiling, supposedly talking to whatever deity was listening. He looked back at me and shook his head, before resting his forehead on the plastic bar that was lining the side of my bed. He let out a deep sigh and a sob followed it. "Oli, please listen," He said, and when he looked up at me all I wanted to do was hug him and say I'm sorry over and over again.

"What?" I whimpered.

"I'm not lying to you. If I was lying I'd be a bit more obvious." He explained, sneaking a sad smile in through his tears. I smiled as well, using my bloodstained cast to wipe away my tears. The material was rough on my face but I didn't really care. "I don't know what I did wrong, but can you forgive me? Please?" I stared at him for a while, a few more tears slipping down my cheeks before I nodded. "Thank you, Oli. Thank you." He whispered, standing up and wrapping his arms loosely around my neck. His face was buried in my hair; I could tell because my scalp was becoming damp from his tears.

"You're getting my hair wet." I muttered, grinning.

"Sorry," He laughed, letting go and getting on his knees once more. He sniffed and wiped his eyes.

"Josh, your time is up," Called Dean Maskell's voice from the hallway. She wasn't in the doorway though, so he leaned forward and kissed me. It only lasted for a few seconds, but it was filled with passion and I swear I felt fireworks going off in me, though that could've been the pain medicine doing some weird shit. He pulled away and smiled, turning around and walking to the door. Dean Maskell took one last glance in at me and scowled. I did the same to her and then flopped back onto my pillow, fiddling with the IV taped in my hand. I smiled the biggest I'd ever smiled before. I hated admitting it, but I liked Josh. A lot.

----------

The next day I was transported back to the school, and when I walked in through the doors, everyone was staring. It was transition time between classes and I just so happened to come in right at that moment. A few people whispered among themselves and a few of them started laughing as this was becoming a normal occurrence, but what caught my eye to me was Max Helyer, looking at me and shaking his head. What? He looked away and kept walking, as did the others when my security guard gestured for them to keep moving. He escorted me up to the third floor and to my room, where I opened the door and immediately went over to Josh's bed. I couldn't climb the ladder with my arms messed up like this, so I just laid down. I was tired and drugged up. The man shut the door and I almost instantly fell asleep.

"Oli," I heard in my ear, and felt someone shaking my side. I opened one eye and smiled when I saw who it was. "what are you doing in my bed?"

"In case you haven't noticed," I said, rolling onto my back and sticking out my arms. "I can't exactly climb." We were both grinning like idiots and he gestured for me to sit up. "Are school and therapy both over?"

Josh plopped down next to me and turned his head so that he was looking me in the eye. "Yep." He smiled once more and that made me laugh, in turn making him laugh, and soon we were cackling like hyenas. We stopped laughing almost simultaneously and I looked at him. He was perfect. I never thought I'd admit it, but I liked a boy. And I honestly thought that he was "the one". We were so close to being together, and I was so close to being super happy. But I nearly ruined it last night. It had only been two days and we were already feeling things for each other. That says something, right? It could be taken away just as easily if I didn't watch how I acted.

"Why did you do that last night?" He asked, the whatever-it-was taking a serious turn.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't... I wasn't--"

"No, no apologies. I just want to know why." Josh explained, taking my right hand that was stiff from the cast. I felt my face turn red and I couldn't help but looked down at our hands. This was just so perfect. Not the conversation, of course, and definitely not the fact that I had a cast on one arm and tons of stitches covered by bandages on the other. Half of me wished that I had died but the other half was so happy that I didn't. I couldn't really explain either one.

"I don't know," I shrugged, still looking at the way his long, slender fingers began to intertwine with mine. "I honestly don't. I thought you were lying to me about everything, but... I guess you're not."

"I'm not." He shook his head and gave me a sad look. "I'm glad you made it out okay." He whispered, and when he tilted his head forward I instinctively did the same with mine. Our foreheads touched and he smiled his adorable toothy smile. He leaned forward and stole a kiss, quick but loving, and little did he know that it held my heart and soul. "What do you want to do until supper?" He asked, and I simply laid down in his bunk, patting the area next to me so he could lay down, too. He smirked and did so, and we just laid there for two hours, not talking, just him playing with my hair and me grinning. Like an idiot. A happy idiot.

----------

Tonight was the night that Matt was supposed to visit, so I sat in one of the ten visiting rooms, waiting for him to arrive. I was twiddling my thumbs -- the only thing I could do without making my arms hurt -- and I let out a big sigh.

"Oliver," I heard a familiar voice say and I looked up at the door. Matt was standing there, his stretched ears even bigger than last month. "hey, mate!"

"Matt!" I was really glad to see him. I stood up and gave him a friendly hug, as much as I could without my arms burning like I stuck them in boiling water and then into a fire.

"I heard about what happened to you, your mum and dad told me. But why'd you try to kill yourself again?" He asked, patting me on the back and giving me a concerned look. "Don't tell me that Josh kid drove you to do that..."

"No, no!" I laughed, accidentally making light of the situation and earning a confused look from Matt. "Sorry. Josh and I are friends now. We're roommates. And we have every class together."

"Friends?!" Matt exclaimed, plopping down in the seat across from the one I had been sitting in. "Mate, from what you've told me, that guy could turn into a fucking cobra if he wanted to. I think he's using you."

"I thought so, too, but he came to visit me in the hospital. And fucking cried," I said to Matt, sitting back down and pointing at him. "he's so sincere. I like him a lot and he likes me." I rested my hands in my lap and stared down at them, remembering how it felt -- sort of, because I couldn't really feel it -- to have his hand in mine.

Matt put up his hands. "Whatever, mate. Hey, I brought some toffee." My stomach flipped upside down as he pulled out the box of sweets, and I nearly threw up just thinking about eating them.

"Please don't make me eat those," I begged, putting my hands over my mouth as he pulled one out of the box. "Please, I've gained so much weight recently."

"Have they weighed you?"

"Well, no, but I can see it in the mirror." I felt tears in my eyes as he stood and came over to me.

"If they haven't weighed you, then you don't know for sure. Last time you got weighed you were at 8 stone even. You look a lot thinner than last time. And that was pretty underweight."

"No I don't! I'm bigger, look at my arms!" I stuck my arm out and smacked the skin on the underside. It didn't jiggle much but it still jiggled. "I have wings." I stated firmly, feeling a tear drip down the side of my face.

"No you fucking don't, Oliver, your arm didn't move at all." He put the toffee right in front of my mouth. "Now eat."

"No!" I cried, standing up and walking towards the door.

"Wow, you're even fussier than usual." He muttered, putting the toffee back in the box. "Fine, I won't make you eat." He sighed in defeat and I ran over to hug him in thanks.

He hugged me back and muttered something under his breath but I really didn't care what it was. I was just glad to not have to eat. "Thank you." I whispered and pulled out of the hug, going back to my seat.

"In return you have to tell me all about Josh." He said, crossing his arms, and I nodded.

"Okay, so he's really good-looking, you've seen him before, and--"

"Did you just call him good-looking?" Matt stopped me. I cleared my throat.

"Er, yeah, but it's fine because it's just friendly." I justified my answer, noting his skepticism and continuing. "Anyway, I beat him up one day so Maskell decided to make us get along, so she put us in a room together and put us beside each other in every class." I went on and when I got to the part where he broke my arm, Matt muttered "shithead" and then let me continue. "So the next day he didn't really talk to me, except at the end of the day, when... well, we were alone. He just didn't want to be seen talking to me. And he kept saying 'I'm not gay' for some reason." I lied. "Then the next day he had to write a song and he wrote one around the unfinished lyrics I read to you over the phone last week. It's really good, he called it 'Bite My Tongue'. That was the night that I tried to kill myself because I thought he was lying to me when he said they were good and I started feeling like shit." I explained. "Then later when I woke up Dean Maskell came in my hospital room and threatened me and then Josh came in and he convinced me to believe him and before he left he kissed me and..." I trailed off, noticing the increasingly horrified look on Matt's face.

"You kissed a dude?"

"Technically he kissed me, but yeah." I sighed. Might as well admit it. "We've kissed three times."

"Whoa there, no one asked that," He shuddered. "that's disgusting." I cocked an eyebrow, confused by Matt's reaction. "So now you're officially a faggot?" I was shocked. Why was Matt starting to call me names?

"Matt, that's really mean--"

"I don't fucking care, you're a disgusting cocksucker just like everyone calls you. I never thought it was actually true but I guess it is." He stood up and I grabbed his arm, resulting in a shit ton of pain from him smacking me away. "Don't fucking touch me." He left the room and I followed him, trying to get him to turn around until he was past the 'No Students Past This Point' sign. And then I started crying for real. I'd imagine I looked and sounded hideous as I ran back up the stairs to the room, coughing and spluttering and hiccupping and making every nasty noise you can make. I laid down in Josh's bed once more, balled up with my eyes squeezed shut. Normally words like that didn't affect me. But when it came from Matt that was a completely different story.

I had just lost my best friend for liking another boy. There was nothing wrong with liking another boy unless you don't want to. Now I really didn't want to like Josh. I wanted to hate him, be his victim just like I used to be. I wished none of this had ever happened. Matt would still be my friend.

But then again, I had Josh as a friend now. However, Matt just showed me that any bond can be broken extremely easily. I had to hold onto Josh like my life depended on it. And honestly, it did depend on it. If I had no friends, what was there to live for? I couldn't say my parents and brother because they rarely ever talked to me; it was like they didn't even want to see me anymore.

I continued to cry for at least another thirty minutes before I fell asleep, exhausted physically and emotionally. "Fucking shit." I muttered, right as I dozed off. If Josh left me, then I'd hit rock bottom. But I'd only have him until November 20th. Then I'd be sent home and have nothing. Absolutely nothing.