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

*Vic's P.O.V*

'Today is the day.' The beautiful black haired boy had smiled in my head.

"For what?" I ask, tilting my head a little.

'You'll see.'

Those four words repeated in my head all morning.

'Today is the day.'

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? I brushed it off as I flew down the stairs and out to Mike waiting on the porch.

"What took you so long?" He asks, pressing half of a cigarette to his lips.

I shrug, stepping down the stairs carelessly. "That stupid fucking dream got me thinking."

"What happened?" He asks, following me, like he always did.

"He just said something weird, I don't know," I say, raising my eyebrows. "It really creeped me out."

"Well fuckin' just tell me what he said." Mike sighs, blowing smoke out along with it.

"'Today is the day.'" I say, beginning to pick at a loose string on my sweatshirt.

"Weird, what do you think it means?"

"I don't know, Mikey." I sigh heavily, beginning to rub my eye. "Why couldn't he just be clear about it instead of being so goddamn oblivious?" I ask, although I knew he couldn't answer my question.

"I feel bad for Jaime." He suddenly says.

"Why?" I ask, raising my eyebrows again. "Not like there's anything wrong with him."

"It's just, you're in love with someone that's not even real."

"So?" I ask, maybe a little too harshly. "I never said I loved him."

That was a complete lie. I was head over heels for that kid, and I knew I was a shitty boyfriend for it.

••• Health Class •••

"Good morning, class!" Ms. Danielson's voice was loud, and clear although there were maybe only fifteen kids in this class, Tony and I being two of them.

"Morning." We all reply lazily, and some of us could barely keep our eyes open.

"So today, we're gonna keep up the happy topics," She jokes, getting not even a smile in return.

We were boring highschool students after all.

Yesterday, we had talked about depression and grief.

"Suicide." She gives us a small smile before turning on the SmartBoard and telling us that we'd be taking notes.

"Can anyone tell me what suicide means? Obviously we know it means to take their own life, but tell me, what is it otherwise?"

I raise my hand slowly after a few seconds of uneasy silence. Nobody liked talking about this.

Especially not Tony. It put him on edge, I knew he was depressed and Mike was his world. Things like this made him worry about Mikey, and he would ask me all sorts of questions after class, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

"What if he died?!"
"What if he overdosed?!"
"Does he selfharm?!"

He asked a shitload of questions, but I was happy to answer them. It felt good knowing that my best friend and brother could make each other so happy, and as long as they were happy, so was I. For the most part.

"Yes, Vic?" She asks, pointing at my slightly raised hand.

I set it down carefully on my desk before answering. "A permanent and needless solution for a temporary problem."

"Needless?" She questions, running a hand through the tips of her short blonde hair.

"No one really 'needs' to do it, do they?" I answer her question with another question.

She nods quickly in approval before writing it across the board.

I wouldn't have said that in sophomore year. I was that weird kid who always had suicide on the back of his mind and a million secrets. Eventually I let Mike and his friends break my walls, and I was 'normal' again. I would always be a little depressed, but it didn't bother me as much as it used to. I was happy with myself, I could sleep at night and had amazing dreams, I had a hot boyfriend, and friends who cared about me. There was nothing to be sad about, in my eyes.

We learned a lot more that day, warning signs, causes, and what to do if you think someone may be thinking about killing themselves.

This was fourth hour, so I had to go to lunch.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket as I'm joined by Matty.

"Hey." He smiles, playing with his left plug.

"Hey, what's up?"

"New kid is sitting with us at lunch." Shit, he's practically levitating off the ground, all this goddamn energy.

"New kid?" I ask, pulling my phone out of my back pocket.

"Kellin Quinn?" He questions, looking at me, a little shocked.

"Doesn't ring a bell." I reply, clicking on a message from Mike.

From: Mike Fuentes
He's fucking real.

What the fuck does that mean? Who's real? I don't get these mixed messages. Ever. Maybe it was obvious and I was just being a dumb fuck.

To: Mike Fuentes
Who?

I hit send, and walk with the little ginger to the lunch line.

"It was like I already knew Kellin when I met him." Matty says, setting an apple on his plate.

I wasn't really hungry, so I grabbed an apple too, and held it quietly. Fruit was free, so both of us left without a word to go sit by our tree.

I hear quiet sobs, even from the outside door. The tree is about forty feet away, so I questioned this. It didn't sound like anyone I knew, but then again it did. It really did.

"Shit, I wonder what's wrong with him." Matty asks, walking faster towards the tree.

I pick up the pace too, not wanting it to seem like I don't care. "Who is it?"

"Kellin." He says quietly before disappearing under the vines and leaves of the tree.

I sigh, and follow him, the sobs only getting louder.

The second I walk over to the rest of the guys. Mike's eyes are on mine and he jerks his head to the bawling boy next to him.

"What's wrong?" Matty says, sitting next to him.

Matty wraps his arm around Kellin's shoulders, attempting to console him.

"I m-miss him so f-fucking bad!" He sobs out quietly, dragging his hands up to his head, beginning to attempt pulling out his black hair.

"Stop it!" Tony exclaims, reaching over and grabbing the broken boy's hands.

"T-t-this isn't f-fair!" He says, staring into up Tony's eyes.

His eyes are gorgeous, a bright crystal blue contrasting against his milky skin and raven-colored hair. Clearer and brighter than a tropical sea, his eyes glanced over to meet mine for seconds, although it felt like hours and hours.

There's no doubt about it, he IS the boy from my dream. He had to be. The exact same one that's been running through my head for four years. Ever since the eighth grade when I found out that I was gay.

He was real.

Although, Kellin was even more beautiful in real life. Nothing I could have ever imagined him to be, after all he was a 'figment' of MY imagination, and it was surprising that he was real, he was really here. Basically, he was my version of the perfect boy.

There was one thing that set me off a bit though, the Kellin in my dreams didn't wear bracelets like his, because his wrists were scarred raw. And I mean, SCARRED. Mangled, gashes tore through his wrists, every once in a while blood would seep through his pants, too.

It wasn't always like that though. Never, since I met him in my first dream, he was scar-free and happy. But the more and more I saw him every night, the more scared for him I got.

There were some nights where his wrists would be gushing scarlet blood and his eyes were rimmed in red and black. He often had a black eye, or unexplainable cuts across his face, never telling me what they were from, or answering me when I asked about his cuts. I obviously knew that they were self harm, but wondered why.

Mike had always told me he was just a part of my imagination and that eventually I would get over it. But I knew I wouldn't. I've never met or seen someone like Kellin. I'd spent all my teenage years trying to figure him out, and now I had an opportunity to actually ask him what was wrong in person.

I could hold him at night, and kiss his nose and tell him I love him. I could make him breakfast, anything to get him to eat. He was so skinny, a lot skinnier than Dream-Kellin.

I could practically see his ribs poking out through his tank top, and his legs were like sticks. His personality was different super different too. He wasn't happy, at all. His eyes had lost the sparkle and his smile was nonexistent. Now all I saw was the miserable boy I loved, crying over a boy who wasn't me.

Not that wanted him to cry over me, I only wanted to make him happy. He missed the other boy, 'Austin' I'd heard him say. Austin and Kellin. God, that sounded perfect. I bet Austin is a male model or something, although no one would be good enough for Kellin.

"Hey," Mike says, resting one of his hands on Kellin's back, next to Matty's. "Maybe we can go to my house and drink a little?"

"Mike!" Tony hisses, shooting him a glare. "That is not a good idea!"

"I agree with Turtle." I say, quietly as Jaime's fingers laced with mine.

I had completely forgotten we had been dating, going on six months now. He didn't know about my dreams, and I was perfectly fine with that, he didn't need to. He loved me, and I was 99% sure I loved him too. Although, it struck me as odd that I knew I loved Kellin, and to be completely honest, I'd rather feel his skinny pale fingers wrapped around mine.

"Y-yeah, I'd like t-that." Kellin says, giving my little brother a smile while wiping some tear tracks off his face.

"Awesome, anyone wanna join us?" Mike gives us all his signature, 'I'm getting totally and completely fucked up' grin, before standing up.

"Mikey!" Tony whines, dragging out the 'e'. "It's his first day!" He says, grabbing onto his boyfriend's arm, staring up at him, pouting.

Before Mike can say anything, Kellin does.

"It d-doesn't matter, Tony. I n-need to r-relax a bit a-anyway." He says, staring at the ground also pulling himself to his feet in record time.

He reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out a carton of Marlboros. Setting one in his mouth, he notices Matty gawking at him and gives him a little wink.

My stomach churns with jealousy.

He brings up a black lighter and lights it effortlessly, taking a long drag almost immediately.

"Didn't know you smoked." Jaime gives him a little smile that he doesn't return.

He only shrugs in response before shoving his left hand in his pocket along with the carton of cancer sticks.

"Ready to go? Who's coming along?" Mike asks, helping Matty to his feet before beginning to walk towards our house.

We only lived a block away, Mom didn't want us to 'waste' gas, so we had to walk everyday, not like it was a big deal or anything, but I preferred riding in the car.

"I'll go." I say, walking over to join my brother after giving Jaime a gentle kiss.

He never skipped class, so I knew he wouldn't be joining us this time, no matter how much he loved to drink.

Mike gives me a smile. "Babe?" He asks, looking to Tony.

"You know I can't drink." He says, frowning before Mike's arms wrap around him, giving him a deep, loving kiss that put Jaime and I to shame.

They pull away, Mike giving Tony one last kiss on the forehead before asking Matty.

"Sure." He says easily, walking over to join us, hands folding over his chest.

All of us were going to get extremely drunk, and I knew things would be messy.

We walked down the street, Mike being in the lead since he had three shorter gentlemen following behind him.

Kellin lingered in the back, causally talking drags of his cigarette and lost in thought. He was so insecure. He stared at the ground, and didn't really like to make eye contact. I felt bad, no one deserved to feel like that and I longed to know what laid under his bracelets, even though I was sure I already knew.

•••

We sat in Mike's room, in sort of a circle.

Kellin and Mike sat, cigarettes hanging out of their mouths while Matty was opening the bottle of vodka.

There were a lot of bottles like that in Mike's room, like vodka, gin, tequila and other kinds of rum.

"Chaser?" Mike asks while Matty hands Kellin the bottle.

Kellin raises his eyebrows and fills a cup half full of it and hands it to Mike.

What happened next practically made me jump out of my skin in shock.

Kellin literally just brought the glass up to his lips and drank it. All of it, in one go without even making a face.

"Uh, Kell?" Matty asks, shifting uncomfortably.

"Hmm?" He hums, a little too quietly.

"How often do you drink?"

He shrugs and crosses his legs. "Never, really." He lies, shrugging.

"You're a good liar," Mike says. "But there's no way you don't drink everyday."

Kellin only shrugs again before closing his eyes, only opening them to pour more liquid into his glass.

By the time his sixth glass came around, he was shit faced wasted. There was at least three shots in each cup, but he really could hold his liquor.

He sat across from me, eyes closed and grinning ear to ear, and it made me happy.

"Y'know, I didn't want any friends when I got here," He slurs out, opening his eyes and smiling at us.
"But y'all are great. I'm from Michigan. Shhh."

Matty lets out a few giggles before he begins to sing, Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls. "And I'd give up forever to touch you-"

Kellin joins him and oh my fucking god. I knew Matty could sing, so I wasn't as surprised when Kellin opened his mouth.

His normal was was already angelic, and his singing voice was just as beautiful, it was smooth and high. Higher than Matty's, but jeez it was beautiful.

They had finished their song, and Kellin was sprawled over Matty's lap while Matty stroked his hair.

"I'm sleepy." Kellin mutters, before closing his eyes and stretching out.

"Vic, maybe you should take him to your room?" Mike smirks. "Matty will probably have to stay here."

I roll my eyes at him. "C'mere, Kellin." I say, stretching out my hand for him to take.

He grabs it, and we just...clicked. His eyes opened as I pulled him up effortlessly, he was so light.

"Thanks." He says, ripping his eyes from mine and lightly pulling his hand out of my grip.

"Your welcome." I reply quietly. "My rooms this way."

I'm dizzy, but at least I can function properly. Kellin, however is flopping all over, tripping over things and slumping against the wall.

"Is it cool if we share my bed? Hardwood floors aren't exactly comfortable." I say, pulling my comforter up just enough for Kellin to crawl underneath.

"That's fine." He mumbles, tugging off his jeans.

I take my pants off too and change into a more comfortable shirt before climbing into bed next to him.

"Can you tell me a story?" He asks, turning to face me.

I chuckle quietly. "Like what?"

"It's called an 'imagination', Victor. Please just think of one." He groans, rubbing his eyes.

God, he's so fucking cute. I never thought I'd actually be here, with him like this...I needed to get closer.

"Alright alright..." I begin quietly, "Once upon a time-"

About mid-story, I started to hear quiet little snores escape his mouth.

He slept like a little cat or something. He was curled up, with his face covered, but after awhile it stopped being cute when he began to stretch out, all over the bed and I.

His whole left arm was across my chest and his left leg was across mine. His other two limbs dangled off the bed, while he talked in his sleep.

"No...Aus, it's not like that."

Great. He's having a dream about that Austin dude. Of course, only while he's laying right next to me. And on me.

I started to feel jealousy pool in the bottom of my stomach while he kept mentioning his name, saying awful things.

"They aren't even that deep. That was the last time."

•••

*Kellin's P.O.V*

"Kellin, wake up. We have to get to school."

"Fuck off, Mom." I mutter, pulling a pillow over my face.

Then I realize I'm not at my house.

I practically throw the pillow across the room and sit up, a panic attack beginning to happen.

I look over to see none other than Vic smiling slightly at me. "Morning, sleeping beauty."

I scoff. "Did I crash here last night?"

He nods nervously, chewing on the inside of his lip. "I slept next to you, if that's okay. You said it was fine last night so..."

I nod and chuckle. "Don't worry, it's fine."

"Did you really just tell me not to worry?" He asks, throwing a sweatshirt over his head. "YOU of all people. Stutter and all." He teases giving me a playful wink.

"Don't mention it, it'll come back!" I say, bringing my hand up to bite my fingernails.

"Stop that!" Vic reaches over in one swift movement and pulls my hand away. "You're not gonna have any nails left."

I hold up my hand to him. "I b-barely do."

I practically hit myself. Are you fucking kidding me? I can't be normal for one fucking day. This is what I'm forced to deal with, I bet he fucking hates me. After all, I am the disgusting faggot.

"Where's the bathroom?" I smile, titling my head a little for 'innocence'.

"Down the hallway to the right." He smiles back, turning around to fix his already perfect hair.

"Thanks." I say, getting up and walking out the door.

I was beginning to get excited, my pulse quickening and stomach clenching. This is what I needed to do. I'd drop any other habit for this. Smoking, biting my nails, even sleeping as long as I could cut.

To me, they were beautiful. Not in a good way, obviously, but to me they resemble a flower in fast-motion. You open the skin up, and before you know it the cut is bigger and bigger blood seeping out like it's growing until it's rather large.That's just me being weird, I guess.

I lock the door and pull my phone out of my back pocket, throwing the case off and onto the counter.

I sit down on the floor after I tugged my jeans down to my knees. I couldn't cut my wrists, which actually bummed me out a bit. I got so much more satisfaction from it, and it was more deserving when I did it there. My thighs would have to do for today, since I had to be gone to school in an hour.

I took one of my emergency blades in my hand and pressed it to my thigh, all of a sudden feeling better.

•••

Thirty cuts later, blood is seeping everywhere, sliding easily our of each gash I'd made into myself.

I only did fifteen on each leg, all about two inches long, varying in different depths. The deepest is obviously my favorite as it drips down the center of my thighs and I just sit there, taking it in.

"Kellin, are you okay?"

I jumped out of my skin before scrambling to the toilet and ripping off a huge piece of toilet paper.

"Just a little hungover." I say, wiping dried blood away and off the floor.

"Are you sure?" He asks, concern peaking in his voice.

No. I have to carry an overbearing weight of unhappiness and the only person who's ever been able to make it go away is a thousand miles away.

I stand up, pulling my pants up too, and open the door.

"I'm fine, see?" I do a little twirl before walking past him and into his room.

"You can skip today, I guess...Tony'll kill me," He pauses, walking through the doorway. "But you should probably just go back to sleep."

I nod, sitting back on the bed carefully. "Are you sure it's alright if I stay here?" I ask quietly,

"Okay.." I say, looking up at him in confusion.

Guilt began to wash over me like a tidal wave. I was given the opportunity to cut my arms again, would I take it? Hell, why was I even asking. Even if I said no now, the thought would dwell on me, torturing me until I sunk to the floor, adding more scars to the mix.

"Where's my phone?" I ask quietly, not feeling it in the pocket of my jeans.

"We have the same charger, so I plugged it in." He says, placing a black beanie on top of his head and jerking his head in the direction of my phone.

Austin had called 10 times. How could I have done that to him? I know exactly how he gets, how worried and worked up he got over me, so I sent him a quick text.

To: Babycakes.
BABY I AM SO SORRY. I did a little drinking last night and passed out...do you hate me?

"Who ya texting?" Vic asks, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"Austin." I choke out, my heart clenching at the very word.

It hurt. And I wanted it to stop. No matter how hard I tried he'd never escape my mind. It didn't bother me, it was just driving me crazy. I'd only been here for like two days, and it was already going to kill me. All I wanted was to wake up back in his arms. Was that really too much to ask? I guess so.

"Kells, I'm really sorry." Vic says, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder, sending shivers down my spine.

I wasn't used to physical contact like this. There were only two kinds that I got, love and hate. Never anything right in the middle.

I give him a small smile. "You'd better get going, Vic. I think I heard Mike close the front door."

He nods, says goodbye and with that he's gone.

•••

I laid in his bed for what seemed like hours, staring at the ceiling. I couldn't fall asleep. Not feeling like this. Austin didn't even text me back. Are you fucking kidding me? Did he even care?

I felt tears start flowing down my face, and begin to hear sobs escaping the back of my throat.

Why did these things have to happen to me? I knew I didn't text him back last night, but he's obviously mad if he didn't text me back.

I sit up, knowing what I needed to do. Slipping my fingers into my pocket and pulling out my now blood-stained and sticky razor into my fingers and back into the bathroom.

I felt like shit. Shit shit shit. That's pretty much all I was. There was nothing for me anymore, it wouldn't do any harm to go a little deeper, right? No one would see them, and by the time anyone did, they would only be scars. They couldn't do anything about it.

Flopping down onto the floor, after locking the door, I stared at my feet for a little while before eagerly pulling my bracelets off, a little too excited about my sick deeds.

People thought cutters were crazy. I knew I was, but I had a friend back in Michigan who used to cut, too. His name was Mitch, and he was the best fucking guy I've ever met.

We'd known each other for about seven months when I finally confronted him about it.

*Flashback*

He told me quietly, tugging his bracelets off slowly, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes.

"How did you know?" He asks, staring up at me, tears overflowing, streaming down his cheeks.

I lean against the wall, suddenly overwhelmed by all my 'responsibilities'. It didn't really seem like I had anything to worry about, but fuck. I did.

I had to worry about my mom. My little sister. Austin. And making sure my 'friends' didn't find out about this. The only person I'd ever told was Austin, and I wanted to keep it that way. I didn't care that people wondered why I was never bracelet-less, I needed them. They were gross. Everything about these scars was repulsive and sure as hell unattractive. But maybe that was why they gave me such a sense of assurance.

Austin loved me, and he'd seen every single scar that lingered on my body. I knew he hated them, but it's not like there was anything he could do, they were there forever. Well, I hoped they were.

"Mitch, it was obvious." I say, taking his hands gently in mine, running my fingers lightly over each of the thick red lines plaguing his wrists, much like mine. "What brought you to this?"

"W-wait," He stops, me and raises his eyebrows a bit. "You aren't g-going to yell at me?"

I scoff lightly. "Never. What kind of person would I be?" I ask, giving him a reassuring smile. "Tell me, please?"

He sighs, pulling his hands out of my grasp, running a shaky hand through his messy brown hair. "I don't even have a reason, Kell. It's just become a necessity, and I like it. Why do I fucking enjoy hurting myself?!"

"I know what you mean, Mitch." I say, quietly.

I was about to make a deadly decision, that was going to hopefully change both of our lives for the better.

"How could you?" He asks, wiping tears angrily from his face. "You're like, perfect and you have Austin and everyone loves you-"

He stops talking the second I tug my tank top off, revealing the criss-crossed dark pink etching across my hips and stomach.

"I understand." I say quietly, allowing him to trace a few, giving me goosebumps.

"How long has this been going on?!" He asks, looking up at me wide-eyed.

"Shh." I smile slightly, pulling my shirt down. "This is about you, okay? Now talk to me."

*End of Flashback.*

I missed him so badly. Unfortunately, I'd never, ever seen him again. He had gone up to join the angels, exactly where he belonged. My heart went out to him, and I longed to see his smile again, missing his dimples and amazing sense of humor. His death is something I'd never, ever be able to get over, or forget. I'd grieve till the day I die.

I practically slammed my fucking head into the tile behind me thinking about it.

Mitch wouldn't want me to cut, I knew that. I wanted to cut though, and we were two very different people, and he would forgive me.

I was learning to love the abuse I was giving myself, and didn't mind the blood or squishing noises anymore.

Setting the blade onto my wrists, I proceeded in my usual process of pressing it hard, and ripping it across multiple times until the cut was deep enough for my 'liking'.

I heard the front door open, and realized how long I'd been thinking all day. Six hours, I guess.

I easily clear up the blood from my single cut, throw my bracelets back on, and get rid of any foul evidence.

Swinging the door open, I slap a smile on my face, and know that I look happy for once, even though I wasn't.

"Hey, Vic!"