If Words Are But Words
I'm a cliche and i'm the very worst kind
IAN’S POV
I was shaking, literally shaking, as Frank helped me into my bunk. I remember I passed out for a while or fell asleep or something when he’d found me but other than that I didn’t remember much.
“You gonna tell me what’s up?” Frank asked as he pulled my blanket up past my cheast like I was a child.
I just stared in a way like I didn’t understand.
“Ok, your choice” he said with a concerned look, he kissed my forehead and smoothed my fringe to the side, “I’ll come back and check on you later, ok” he said softly, heading for the door.
I managed a nod, barely, as I choked back more tears. I felt so unstable, like I was a glass figure tinkering on the edge of a cliff, the wind daring me to fall. I bit my bottom lip to stop the tears but it didn’t help so I bit down harder I guess I bit too hard as the skin broke. I felt the warm blood trickle down my chin.
“Ian,” Frank said startled, “Oh, god are you bleeding?” he rushed over to my side and crouched by me. I stared and said nothing.
“Ian, why?” he whispered shaking his head. I downcast my eyes, feeling the pain of the expression on his face stabbing in me like a hundred knives.
“Why did you do that?” he murmured cupping my chin in his hand, rubbing his thumb softly across my bottom lip. I didn’t reply.
“Ian, please” he tried, looking shattered. He ran his fingers through his dark hair in frustration.
“Just go” my voice was raspy from the coughing. I think those were the only words I’d said to him that day.
“Ian, baby please, I’m trying to help, I’m only trying to help, let me help you” he looked like he was about to cry.
“Please” I spoke softly, feeling sick to my stomach.
“You may not want my help but I want to help” he replied lying his head on my cheast.
“You’re right, I don’t want your help” I instantly wanted to take back those words.
His head immediately shot up from the place on my cheast it had been laying.
“Frank, I didn’t mean it like-” I grabbed his wrist in an effort to stop him. He broke free of my grip and left without a glance back.
The door clicked behind him and I was once again left alone. I know I should feel bad about how I treat him I don’t deserve him, I don’t deserve my friends, I don’t deserve anyone. Undeserving, the word echoed in my mind. It’s cliché I know but I couldn’t think of anything else so I grabbed the razor from the bathroom cupboard and sat cross-legged on the white tiles. I don’t deserve anyone, I don’t deserve anything. I should be punished for the pain I cause everyone else, I deserve this pain.
I hacked a large line across my stomach and another, and another and another. The blood seeped through the cuts, smearing blood across my body.
----------------------------
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I was shaking, literally shaking, as Frank helped me into my bunk. I remember I passed out for a while or fell asleep or something when he’d found me but other than that I didn’t remember much.
“You gonna tell me what’s up?” Frank asked as he pulled my blanket up past my cheast like I was a child.
I just stared in a way like I didn’t understand.
“Ok, your choice” he said with a concerned look, he kissed my forehead and smoothed my fringe to the side, “I’ll come back and check on you later, ok” he said softly, heading for the door.
I managed a nod, barely, as I choked back more tears. I felt so unstable, like I was a glass figure tinkering on the edge of a cliff, the wind daring me to fall. I bit my bottom lip to stop the tears but it didn’t help so I bit down harder I guess I bit too hard as the skin broke. I felt the warm blood trickle down my chin.
“Ian,” Frank said startled, “Oh, god are you bleeding?” he rushed over to my side and crouched by me. I stared and said nothing.
“Ian, why?” he whispered shaking his head. I downcast my eyes, feeling the pain of the expression on his face stabbing in me like a hundred knives.
“Why did you do that?” he murmured cupping my chin in his hand, rubbing his thumb softly across my bottom lip. I didn’t reply.
“Ian, please” he tried, looking shattered. He ran his fingers through his dark hair in frustration.
“Just go” my voice was raspy from the coughing. I think those were the only words I’d said to him that day.
“Ian, baby please, I’m trying to help, I’m only trying to help, let me help you” he looked like he was about to cry.
“Please” I spoke softly, feeling sick to my stomach.
“You may not want my help but I want to help” he replied lying his head on my cheast.
“You’re right, I don’t want your help” I instantly wanted to take back those words.
His head immediately shot up from the place on my cheast it had been laying.
“Frank, I didn’t mean it like-” I grabbed his wrist in an effort to stop him. He broke free of my grip and left without a glance back.
The door clicked behind him and I was once again left alone. I know I should feel bad about how I treat him I don’t deserve him, I don’t deserve my friends, I don’t deserve anyone. Undeserving, the word echoed in my mind. It’s cliché I know but I couldn’t think of anything else so I grabbed the razor from the bathroom cupboard and sat cross-legged on the white tiles. I don’t deserve anyone, I don’t deserve anything. I should be punished for the pain I cause everyone else, I deserve this pain.
I hacked a large line across my stomach and another, and another and another. The blood seeped through the cuts, smearing blood across my body.
----------------------------
Sick fo all those comments
cluttering your closet? Donate
them to the Jaimee fan fic
comments box, give and
you shall recieve...updates XD