When Sadness Was the Sea, You Taught Me How to Swim.

*Kellin's P.O.V*

I threw the top off of my "happy" box. Which is really just a fucked up name I gave a box that I keep all my self harming tools in. The only thing that really hurts is, my mom knows about it, and she doesn't care about all the self damage I inflict on myself behind closed doors. And it sucks. Maybe she doesn't know the extent I take it to? Perhaps she just assumes its a few pussy cuts here and there, instead of gashes ripped through my skin that don't stop bleeding for hours. I grasped the blade in between my thumb and index finger, trying to calm myself down a bit.

Kellin, is this worth it right now? Did the things John say really get to you that badly, or am I overreacting? Either way, I was going to do this, because it's what needed to happen. Proof to myself that I'm really a pathetic, excuse of a "man". I'm just a boy hiding behind long sleeves and fake smiles. I pressed the new piece of metal to my wrist, whipping it across as fast as I can, knowing that this makes a better cut. I put the razor back in the cut and run it back and forth, fast. I close my eyes and scrunch my face up, trying to get over some of the pain. I was surprised of all the cuts now littering my body. Wrists, Thighs, and even my Stomach again. And I didn't regret it one bit. I carefully run my fingers over them, an odd pang of proud-ness in my chest. I like being in control, and I like knowing that this is what's bound to keep happening to me.

I made sure that I made a point about hurting myself like this. I never wanted to move. John made us. Us being, him, Mom, my little sister and I. The neighbors were beginning to get suspicious of why I always had bruises, or a limp. We had to go before they put two and two together. Of course, I had to leave my boyfriend Austin.

*Flashback.*

"Aus," I say quietly, staring over at the tall, tattooed boy.

"Kellin, what's wrong? What's going on?" He asks, squeezing my hands tighter in his.

"I...I'm leaving." I choke out, feeling my chest begin to tighter and my heart dropping.

His eyes get wide and glossy. "Wh..Where are you going?"

"California." I say, falling into his arms, beginning to sob into his chest. "I-I don't w-wanna!"

Tears continue to stream down my cheeks until Austin forces me to look at him.

"I l-look gross." I mutter, my voice wavering as I ry to hide my face.

"You look beautiful, Kells." He says, not sobbing, but lots and lots of tears flow freely down his face. "Don't cry, okay?"

I shake my head. "I can't h-help it! I'm leaving you!" I throw my arms around his neck and his hands make their way to my waist.

"It's o-only two years."

I pull away. "Exactly. T-two years without you! I l-love you..."

It was 730 Days.
17,520 Hours.
1,051, 200 Minutes.
and 63, 072,000 Seconds.

And it was far too long. I had a schedule, something I did every single day.

Wake Up.
Brush My Teeth.
Get Dressed.
Do My Hair.
Smoke A Bowl, or Get Drunk.
Go To School.
Smoke Again At Lunch.
Do Rest Of School.
Go Home.
Brush My Teeth.
Do Homework.
Shower.
10 Cuts Or More.
Get Drunk.
Brush My Teeth.
Pass Out.
And Repeat.

If I did ten cuts a day, that would be 73,000 cuts. I was getting a little excited for that.

"I love you more...Wh-what am I gonna do without you?" He asks, beginning to fall into one of his infamous panic attacks again.

"Austin, baby, calm down." I say as calmly as I can manage and wrap my hands around his tattooed ones.

"A-are you gonna stop cutting for me?" He asks, breathing raggedly and sharp while tears flow quickly down his face.

I nod quickly, desperately trying to get him to calm down. He goes crazy when he gets like this. "I promise baby. You know how much I love you."

"Promise you'll w-wait for me! In two years, I'll come and get you and we can go wherever you'd like, o-okay?" He asks, holding onto me like I was his security blanket. And honestly, I was proud that I could make at least one person at least a little bit happy. I wasn't COMPLETELY worthless.

"I promise, Aus. We'll be together forever, okay?" I state, feeling my chest tighten at the words.

Forever. That wasn't possible. I had to be two years without him. Two fucking years. Even though they were the last two years of highschool, and then I would come back to live with him. But I don't think I would last that long. Suicide was always an option in my mind, and no matter what happened, I'd end up dead.

*End of Flashback*

I was odd, siting here, feeling so pleased with myself about the disgusting thing I'd done to myself. I knew it was bad, obviously. Although to me, it was just another of my shitty addictions. Maybe the worst one. Another reason why people wouldn't like me and why I kept myself locked in my room all the time.

I hated myself, and constantly wondered why Austin would be not bothered with the thought of having a boyfriend in such a bad mental state. He knew he could handle me, shit, I knew it too. He was my savior. My Clark Kent, and I was in love with him. Even though no matter what him, or anyone said this addict wasn't going to put down the only thing that made me feel better.

I felt like shit, remembering my promise to my tall boyfriend, I'd just have to make sure he never found out. If there was one thing I was good at, it was hiding things. Cutting was my main one. He had always asked why I wore so many bracelets and only wore pants, even before he was my boyfriend. I asked him why, but one day he finally told me. He had said I had interested him the second I walked in.

That obviously didn't make sense to me; I was nothing special. I look like every other boy. Maybe I don't act, think, or feel the other boys do, but I never let it show publicly.

Thinking back and remembering is how I fell asleep; hands resting on my thighs, tracing my legs, trying to think the happiest thoughts I can manage right now.

•••

"Kellin," My Mom knocks quietly at my door. "Thirty minutes till school starts."

"Thanks." I grumble before swinging my short legs over the side of the bed.

I wasn't too short, but a lot smaller than other guys I've met. I'm only 5'9 after all.

I sigh, throwing on black skinny jeans, a black tank-top, a maroon sweatshirt to go over it, and black Toms.

Like I could ever go sweatshirt-less. I had my bracelets, but I mean I've never met a guy with as many on as me. There's so many it sort of makes a small bulge under my sleeves. Oh, I loved sleeves. I felt the best when I was hiding under a sweatshirt, no one having to see more of me than necessary. Nobody deserved that. Even though I knew I'd have to take it off. It was supposed to be 90 degrees later.

I slide into the bathroom, putting toothpaste on my toothbrush. Austin is gonna be so disappointed, but hey, he doesn't have to find out. Who cares if he says he's gonna check? The ones from last night and the ones from the night before look alot alike, I would be fine.

We had made a deal that we'd either Skype or talk on the phone every night for at least thirty minutes. He told me he wanted to act as though I was there, even if I was miles and miles away. It felt good to know I mattered so much to someone so perfect.

I spit out all the leftover toothpaste shit, and rinsed with water. I grabbed my notebook and pencil, and ran out of the house before anyone could say something about me not eating breakfast.

I notice a short ginger across the street, and decide to ignore him. It would be easy, I was a shut-in and an outcast. I didn't have to worry about friends or making any, because I didn't want them. I hated when people worried about me, the only ones I accepted where Austin's and my little sister's.

I sighed and pulled out my pack of cigarettes to ease my nerves. I knew people at this school would hate me,  I didn't give a shit that I moved cross country. People were crazy. Nothing would change.

With a burning cigarette between my lips and a lighter dangling easily in my fingers, I felt at peace. Relaxed even.

"Smoking'll kill ya, y'know." Someone says behind me, causing me to jump.

After I collect myself, I only shrug. It's the same ginger from across the street and I wonder why he's next to me right now.

His hair is short, and sort of pulled to the side and looks like the perfect wave to go surfing on. There's a pair of black sunglasses perched on his nose, and black plugs settle innocently in his stretched ears.

"Sorry for startling ya." He smiles, and sticks his hand out. "Matty Mullins."

I take it in mine slowly. Fuck, he had a strong grip compared to my weak one that showed little effort. "K-K-Kellin Quinn." I say quietly.

I refused to be called "Kellin Bostwick." I wouldn't have John's last name. I couldn't. So I just asked to be called my my mothers maiden name, Quinn. And it suited me better.

"Nice to meet you." He says, still beaming.

Great, a happy one. I stare at his at his t-shirt clad body. God, he was skinny and perfect. He was dressed similar to me, just brighter colors. His arms were bare, no sleeves, scars or cuts. I felt a sense of guilt filled envy. I only had those things because I did them to myself. It was a successful problem solving method to me.

"Likewise." I grumble, taking a large drag off my cigarette.

"Why do ya smoke?" He asks, cocking his head to the side, staring at me.

"Because I c-can."

"That's not a very good reason."

"I-I don't fucking know," I say, beginning to get a little upset. "Why do you care so much?"

His smile disappears and is replaced with a frown, making me feel like shit. I always did, the feeling was more enhanced this time though.

"M'sorry." He says quietly, fiddling with the back of his phone case and not willing to make anymore eye contact.

I sigh, and start fucking around with the sleeves of my hoodie. "It's my fault. I'm sorry for snapping. The depress-" I pause for a second, carefully exchanging my words. "The new medication I'm on is giving me hellish mood swings."

"So you don't hate me?" He asks, beginning to lighten up again.

I shake my head, looking around for the school. "You g-go to Northmount?" I ask.

He nods, "I love it there."

"I-I suppose you're o-one of the p-popular guys, huh?" I ask, feeling stupid asking the other kid so many questions.

I didn't really care anyway, knowing there was no way in hell that I would allow myself to be friends with him. I didn't deserve friends. And he didn't deserve to have to put up with me.

Matty and I kept up the idle conversation until we reached the school.

"Do you wanna hang out with my friends and I?" He asks, looking over to me. There was a begging tone to his voice.

I shake my head and force a smile. "Tomorrow, m-maybe. I have to g-go and get a-all my new paperwork and s-shit." I reply, as he holds the door open for me.

What a gentleman.

I mutter a 'Thanks' before asking where the office was. The second after he told me, I left, finding my way through the mazes of people. My social anxiety begins to kick in, great.

I hate when people look at me. Anywhere, really. Whether it be at school, a store. Even at my own house. I pull my sleeves over my hands and pull open the door to the office.

"H-hi, I'm new h-here."

Well fucking obviously, idiot.

The lady at the desk smiles, and I felt bad for not being able to return it.

"Kellin, correct?" She asks, picking up a piece of paper and eyeing it quickly before handing it off to me.

I nod, give her a little smile and go to try and find my locker. It was number 1036 so it was on this floor and to the....right I think?

Just as I'm about to turn on my heel and begin to walk, someone crashes into me, causing me to fall to the ground, them land on top of me.

"Uh! Dammit, sorry dude. You okay?" I hear a voice ask.

I look up, my brain fuzzy and find a Mexican boy, with huge stretched ears. Quite a bit bigger than Matty's.

"I-I'm fine." I choke out before picking up my notebook.

"I'm Tony." He smiles, sticking out his hand much like Matty had done only minutes earlier.

"K-Kellin."

I take his hand in mine and begin to notice all the tattoos, on his arms, neck. Even hands. He reminded me too much of Austin, and it hurt to look. My heart began to sink, and I could tell my eyes were glossing over.

"You okay? Like...emotionally?" He asks, setting his hand on my shoulder.

I nod slowly. "Why w-wouldn't I b-be?" I ask, playing with the bottom spiral of my notebook.

"I don't think I've ever heard a stutter like that. Or a voice, for that matter." He says, giving me an amazing smile.

Once again, it reminded me of Austin. Everything about Tony did. Austin used to have his ears stretched. Austin had tattoos on his neck, chest, arms, and hands. Austin was tall. Austin was skinny. Austin was my everything.

I try to get my mind off him, and pay more attention to what the Mexican boy is saying to me. "W-what?" I ask timidly, feeling bad that I didn't listen to a word he said.

It wasn't unusual for me to go blank physically when I thought of Austin. Even if he was right there in front of me, all I had to do was over think, and I would zone out.

"I asked where your locker was." He smiles, tilting his head. "And you're sure you're alright?"

I nod. "P-perfect," I lie. "It's number 1036."

"Oh, you're close to Mike and I." He keeps smiling, and I feel like shit admitting it, but I wish he would stop. It's gonna kill me eventually.

"M-Mike?"

"Mike Fuentes. He's in your grade, I think. His older brother and I are seniors." He says, tapping his knuckle on a locker that must be mine.

I smile again, thankfully. "I don't t-think I would have b-been to find it w-without you."

He tilts his head. "Why do you stutter so much?"

I shrug, beginning to turn the dial to the right numbers. "N-nervous habit, I g-guess." 20-30-22. At least all of it was even numbers.

"Made any friends yet?" He asks, as I pull it open, setting in just a few things. Extra pens in my pocket, wrappers. Just little things.

I shake my head, tugging off my sweatshirt and revealing all my bracelets. "N-no. I just g-got here."

"Well, maybe you'd like to sit by my friends and I for lunch?"

I think for a second. It obviously wouldn't turn out to be a bad thing. But in my mind it would be. Sitting with people meant questions. Questions why the weird black-haired never ate. Why he never complained about being hungry. Why he hid in the bathroom after even a bite of unnecessary food. I couldn't risk it.

"I uh...u-usually sit by myself." I say, closing my locker as quietly as I can before turning to face him.

His eyebrows are furled into a confused look. "Why would you wanna do that?"

I shrug again. "It's easier to be without people sometimes."

I had lost my stutter talking to this Tony kid, and I knew I was comfortable with him, which was odd. I never got used to anyone in five minutes.

He nods. "That's true...but please just give it a try? If you hate it, and they're assholes you never have to sit with us again, okay?"

I sigh, and contemplate in my head again. If I absolutely had to eat all I had to do was purge. If they asked about my bracelets, all I had to do was say that I had a shitty tattoo, or a rash. That was easy.

"Alright." I mutter, beginning the walk to my first hour class.

"Yay!" He says, giving me a big smile.

That made me happy, I mean he actually gave a shit if I was going to sit with them or not. I feel my stomach begin to lighten up, and my mind fills with all sorts of thoughts. What did Mike and his older brother look like? I bet they were perfect.

"What time do we have lunch?" I ask, hoping not too long.

"After fourth." He says, giving me another smile. "All of us have B lunch. I'm really stoked you're going with me, by the way."

I felt myself beginning to feel happy, and cared about. Something I hadn't felt since I was last sleeping next to Austin. Something I missed so terribly, it had been impossible for me to fall asleep without him lingering in my thoughts.

It was a little weird to feel like someone you weren't even related to  was so helpful to you, and cared about with such a passion, it felt like you couldn't live without them. It was true though. I couldn't live without Austin, and I began to wonder how long I would last, and the feeling of drowning returned, and I turned back into myself.

*4 Classes Later*

Step by Step by Step. This was going to be easy, Kellin. It was lunch, goddammit, weren't kids supposed to love this part of the day? I was resenting it, of course. I knew I looked like shit, and it was even worse knowing that they would ask me why I was so stupid, or bad at things, or quiet. I wasn't shy, I was overly conservative, not wanting to speak when I didn't have to. Isn't that what everyone should expect of me anyway?

"Hey!" I feel Tony's warm hand resting on the bend of my arm.

I turn to look at him, giving him an artificial smile. "Do you guys eat outside? I'd kind of like to have a quick smoke."

He nods quickly. "Yeah, we do actually."

"Where do you guys meet up? I'll wait there." I say, beginning to get even more nervous and playing around with my bracelets, not really feeling like doing anything at the moment.

"Aren't you hungry?"

Fuck. Excuses, excuses. I really didn't want to lie to my potential 'friends' I didn't want. There really was no need unless I had to. But this could be an emergency, right?

"I ate a huge breakfast and I have a bit of a headache." It rolls easier off my tongue than I thought it would, and as I knew, Tony bought it. Just like everyone else.

"Alright, well we usually all meet up under that willow tree, okay? I'm always there first, so I'll see you in a few." He says, before giving me a small wave and smile before walking off to get lunch.

How did the other boys eat so much and stay skinny?

I walked through the grass, listening to my feet padding against the grass and a few freshly fallen leaves. I reach the tree and sit under it, marveling at the beauty and simplicity of it all. It was all vines. They were tangled and hid what laid on the inside.

"Hey!" Tony's voice corrupts my thoughts and I look up, finding him with two other guys.

One is about a head taller than Tony, really tall and skinny, has a lot of tattoos and a piercing right above his Cupid's bow, me being stupid and forgetting what it's called.

The other one is tall, really muscular and also had tattoos. Fucking hell, did everyone have them but me? His hair was also sticking up, like he had just shoved his finger into an electrical outlets.

"This is Mike Fuentes," the tall one. "And Jaime Preciado." The muscly one. Tony introduced the pair rather nicely, and I wondered why they had different last names.

"I'm K-Kellin Quinn," I say quietly, not wanting to make any eye contact. "Aren't you two brothers?"

Jaime lets out a laugh, while Mike immediately begins tapping on his phone.

"No, haha. I'm dating his older brother." Jaime says, before his  expression falters. "You're not uh...homophobic are you?"

"I'm g-gay, too." I reply, something I had to tell people millions of times before they would believe me. "I h-had to leave m-my boyfriend home." I pull myself closer, and holding myself tighter at the thought of him.

"You okay, Kellin?" Mike asks, looking at me with concern.

"I'm fine." I say, feeling like I'm about to cry.

Suddenly, I hear two other voices. One belongs to Matty, the other one I haven't heard. I don't bother looking up. I just bury my head in my hands and let the sobs escape me.