Please Don't Take This Out on Me

When I got out of the shower, I slid the clothes Vic gave me on and walked out of his room. I didn't feel anything. I trudged down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mike was laying on the table (I didn't know if that was allowed or not but okay) and Vic was stirring something in a pot.

"Hi Kellin." Mike said, not looking up from his phone which was held precariously above his face.

I didn't answer him, I just fell into a chair and let my head fall onto the table. I heard my face come into contact with the wood and it kinda hurt, but I didn't give two fucks.

"Mikey, have a little class, sit in a chair or lay on the couch." Vic scolded.

Mike huffed and rolled off the table sliding into a chair.

"Thank you." Vic said in a sing-song voice.

"Your welcome." Mike stuck his tongue out. "Asshole." He muttered.

"Fuck face."

"Douche bag."

"Bitch tits."

"Fag!"

"Shut up!" Vic laughed.

Mike and Vic were laughing their asses off at their little argument. Vic piled some tortellini pasta onto a plate and poured some olive oil on it. He turned around and pushed a place in front of me and Mike. Vic grabbed Mike's head and gave it a squeaky kiss.

"No! I don't want your germs on me! Now I have to take another shower!" Mike complained.

"Oh, please. We have the same DNA." Vic scoffed. I smiled at the two. It was obvious they were incredibly close and Mike was totally fine with Vic being gay and they joked about it constantly.

I inspected the pasta.

"It's cheese tortellini, Kellin. It won't eat you. And i didn't poison it." Vic said.

"I'm not hungry." It wasn't a lie. I was completely numb at this point. Even if I was hungry, I wouldn't have wanted anything. And I probably would have thrown it up anyway, I can't keep food down when I'm upset.

"Kellin, eat it. You're too skinny." Vic ordered.

I just shook my head.

"Kellin, believe me, you want to eat it." Mike said. "A few years ago I had an eating disorder and once I stared getting better, I thought Vic was going to shove macaroni down my throat."

I looked at Vic and he just nodded.

I pushed the plate away. "No. You can't make me." Crossing my arms, I leaned back. I'm sure I looked like a five year old pouting about not liking the food I was given, but I didn't want anything and they couldn't make me.

"You have to eat." Vic was starting to get pissed.

I snapped. I couldn't help it. I was so over everyone's bullshit. "No! Just leave me alone!" I shrieked.

Running out of the kitchen and into the bathroom in Vic's room, I slammed the door and locked it. Maybe he'll get the picture that I don't need any help. I don't want any help.

A few moments later, I heard Vic come in the room. He knocked on the door roughly. "Kellin, I know you're in there, open the door."

"No."

"Kellin. Open the god damn door!"

"Or what? What are you gonna do? Punch me? Sorry, slut, I got my dad for that." I spat. That seemed to shut him up. And I don't know where the slut thing came from but it made me feel better.

We were both silent for a few minutes. I thought he may have left and then I heard him shuffling around. He was probably looking for something to kill me with. Maybe someone would finally end my poor excuse of an existence.

I heard him sigh and could practically see him running his hands through his hair. "Kellin, sweetie, please open the door." He asked quietly.

"Why?" I could feel myself starting to cry. Perfect, here come the water works.

"Because I need to talk to you." Vic was being a lot more calm now.

"Are you going to hit me if I come out?" I responded hesitantly.

"Honey, why would I hit you?"

"Why would my dad hit me?"

Vic paused and I heard another sigh. "I don't know, darlin."

Those pet names, man. Hit me hard. I broke down and cried. A lot. I unlocked the door, and Vic opened it slowly. Seeing that I was crying he stepped forward and put his arms around me, holding me against him. I leaned my weight against him and he held me tighter. I slid my arms around his back and fisted the back of his shirt.

"What did I do?" I mumbled into his shirt.

"Nothing, love, you didn't do anything wrong. He's the one at fault, not you." Vic whispered into my hair.

I held onto him tighter and sobbed. It was probably gross, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Kels, come on."

When I didn't do anything, he sighed, then hoisted me up and carried me bridal style to his bed. He set me down gently. "Lay down, I'll be right back."

When he went to walk away, I grabbed the end of his shirt. "Where are you going?" I asked frantically. What if he didn't come back? What if he was calling Patrick and telling him there wasn't any hope for me? He wouldn't do that, would he?

"I have to talk to Mike for a second but I'll be right bac-" I cut him off.

"Don't leave me here! I don't want to be alone! If you leave me..." I started to hyperventilate. Vic came back to me and held my face in his hands, wiping the tears off my cheeks.

"Shh, shh. Okay, I'll stay. Just take a deep breath." Vic breathed in and out to demonstrate and soon, I was breathing almost normal again.

Vic sat down next to me on the bed. I didn't look at him, but I could feel his eyes on me. "Don't stare at me like that." I mumbled.

"Why? Does it bother you?" He wasn't mocking me, he was just asking.

"Kind of."

"I'll stop then."

When I looked up, Vic wasn't staring at me anymore. He was looking down at his fingers. "Kellin?"

"Yes?"

"If I asked you to show me something, and I showed you something too, would you do it?"

"I'm not comparing my dick with yours, if that's what you're asking."

He turned to me with a confused look on his face. I was being completely serious when I said that. Not even gonna lie. "Uh, what? You know, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." He paused. "Take off your shirt." He said suddenly.

"What? No." I hugged myself as if my shirt would fly off because Vic asked it too.

"Fine. That's how it's gonna be." Vic sigh and sat up a little straighter, pulling his shirt over his head. He stood up and spread his arms before dropping them pitifully at his sides as if presenting himself. His stomach and hips were covered in little white scars. Some healing some fading, but they were all there. And there were hundreds of them.

It was hard to believe someone like Vic did something like this. I reached out and ran my fingers along his stomach before splaying both my hands on his skin. "Why?"

"I could ask you the same question."

I looked down. I didn't need to explain it and it wasn't any of his business anyway.

"I stopped, Kellin. For Mike. And my mom. And for anyone else who does this because, in the long run, it doesn't help. It may seem like it does when you do it, but all it does it cause you future problems you don't even think of until it's too late." Vic explained. His hands slid to my hips, going underneath the shirt I was wearing to rest against my skin.

Before I knew it, he had my shirt pushed over my head and off my body. I didn't want him to see me. I was disgusting and if I hated looking at myself that much, I could only imagine what his reaction would be. I tried to turn around, but Vic pulled my arm back lightly so I was facing him.

I was covered in bruises, in various stages of repair. Some a greenish-yellow, some a purplish-blue, but the newest ones were always a sickly bluish-black. Vic ran his hand lightly up my arm and stroked his thumb over the cuts there.

"You've gotta stop, Kels." Vic sighed. He leaned forward so his lips were next to my ear and I could feel his breath on my neck. "You're better than this. You're better than the urge. But more than anything, you're better than the blade. You are worth so much more than you give yourself credit for." He whispered.

I didn't know how to respond so I stayed silent. Next, Vic slid his hands to my ribs. He may have been able to feel them, probably not though.

"You're so thin." Vic looked down at my stomach. "I could count your ribs and your hipbones look like knives. You could get so sick." He seemed genuinely worried. Which is weird for me, most people don't stick around long enough to give two shits. "I have to tell Patrick about this." Vic murmured to himself.

"Vic, you can't."

"Kellin, I have to. You're so skinny. This is dangerous. Do you know how sick you could get? And you're cutting...Kellin I can't keep that a secret. What if you cut too deep? What if you...God forbid what if you kill yourself Kellin?"

"Would that be such a bad thing." I answered without thinking.

Vic grasped my shoulders tightly. Not tight enough to hurt me, but enough to get my attention. "Hey. Look at me. Kellin, look at me!" He shook me a bit and I met his eyes and was tempted to look away but knew that wouldn't end well. "Don't you ever say something like that again. Do you understand me? Promise me, Kellin. Promise me, you won't try and kill yourself."

I nodded quickly.

"Say it! I need to hear you say it." Vic looked terrified. I don't know what it was that made him so scared about this, but he looked pretty upset.

"I promise."

"Okay." He sighed again. I noticed he did that a lot. "I won't tell Patrick, okay? I think you should do it. Will you do that for me?"

I nodded again.

Vic smiled slightly and nodded once. I quickly leaned forward and pecked his lips. I turned back quickly pulling on the shirt he gave me to wear and pulling off the sweat pants. I didn't look at him as I slid into his bed and faced the wall. Vic went over to the wall and turned off the light, but opened the curtains so a little bit of light came through.

He got into bed next to me and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest. His lips lightly pressed against the back of my neck, making my shiver slightly. "Good night Kellin."

"Good night Vic."