Numb (DreamNotFound)

23

TW's:
-Self harm!!
-Suicidal thoughts
-Relapse (usage of alcohol+addiction)

George's POV

I was really happy to be at home, but I was also feeling really bad. I had eaten a pizza and I left to go upstairs. I had texted Clay, but he hadn't replied to me yet and I sat down on my bed.

How happy I was to be in here, how bad I felt. Everything that had happened, I just seemed to realise it just now. I had been sitting on my bed crying for minutes long, I was hoping for a call of Clay, but he was probably busy or something.

I couldn't help myself anymore and I went to my desk, my desk where I had hidden multiple blades. I grabbed one, rolled up my sleeves and started cutting my whole arms open. Not a little, I really continued for fifteen minutes long. Blood kept dripping down and I startled of what I did to myself. This was probably worse than I had ever done, but still. I couldn't stop.

I pulled off my shirt and started cutting my whole belly open too, but after a while I realised what I was doing. I knew I needed help and maybe I could start with asking for help.

'Mum, please don't get mad,' I yelled.

I heard footsteps on the stairs and my mum opened the door slowly. Her face dropped and she smiled softly at me.

'Sweetie, why?'

'I'm sorry. I really am.'

'It's fine, George. I know you can't help it and I know you need help for it. I'm really glad you called me, I'm proud of you.'

I smiled with tears in my eyes. 'I'm sorry, I really can't help myself anymore.'

'I know, sweetie. I'm going to get you some towels and bandages, okay? Don't cut again, please.'

'I won't.'

My mum stood up and ran away, I heard her talking to my dad and my brother and I heard someone else walking upstairs now. My brother came in and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. 'I'm so sorry,' I whispered.

'Maybe if mum and dad agree you can go to Clay for a little to calm down?'

'Maybe, I don't want to get mad again and I don't want to hurt any of you. Clay makes me feel calm enough to not let me hit him.'

'That's good. Come, let mum take care of your wounds, okay?'

'Is it really bad?'

'It is, George, but it's okay. You will get through this, okay? Do you have pain?'

'Yes.'

My mum came upstairs too and she cleaned my wounds, putting bandages around my arms. My brother and mum both just hugged me for minutes long and when my wounds stopped bleeding I put on my shirt again.

'Can I maybe go to Clay for a little? I'm really afraid to hurt you,' I whispered.

'Of course, sweetie. That's totally okay, are you going to sleep there?'

'No, I don't think I will. I can maybe ask him to come to my house after we spend the day there?'

'Sure, sweetie. You do what think is the best for you.'

I nodded and I stood up. 'Do you maybe want to bring me there? I have pain, I can't really use my bike now.'

'Of course, I'll bring you.'

I nodded thankfully and we walked downstairs. I was too tired to really explain anything so I just waited for my mum to explain everything to my dad. He hugged me too after a while.

'I'm proud of you no matter what, okay? I'm proud that you yelled for help when you kept cutting and I'm proud that you choose to go to Clay to avoid triggering your trauma. You really didn't even try doing that before, I can see that you really want to recover now.'

'I want to, I promise. I just can't do it alone.'

'I understand. Go to Clay now.'

I nodded, grabbed my phone and stepped in the car. Clay lived around fifteen minutes away from me with the car and I opened my phone to text Clay.

You
hi, i have a surprise. at least i hope its a surprise, im coming over!

Clay
that somnds lkke fuuuuuiuuun

You
u good?

Clay
living teeee live orrrr life, soepling is hared

You
wtf is wrong with u?

Clay
gekrgieeeee csnt wait ti seee you agaiehen

You
clay? are you drunk?

Clay
druuuuuuuuunk? nooooooo

'Mum?' I whispered.

'Yeah, sweetie?'

'I don't know what to do.'

'What do you mean?'

'You know Clay was addicted, right?'

'Yeah.'

'I think he's drunk again. Maybe he's just being weird, but I don't know.'

'Aww, poor boy. Why don't his parents help him with this?'

'His parents are mad at him getting addicted in the first place and they have loads of alcohol in the house.'

'You should call his therapist immediately when you're there.'

I nodded. 'Okay.'

'Do you want me to come with you?'

'No, I'm okay. I can handle it.'

'If you think he drank so much that he's going to be in a coma, immediately call the ambulance.'

'I think he's just drunk.'

'Do you want me to wait in front of the house?'

'I don't know, I don't know how he is when he's drunk.'

'I'll be waiting in front of the house, okay?'

I nodded.

You
im almost there

Clay
yeeeeeeeeeeeeedsssssssdsss

I felt so bad for him, why didn't his parents just help him? Now he relapsed again and he had probably have to go back to the start now. He came so far already and it was all ruined because his parents were this stupid. My mum stopped the car and kissed my cheek.

'Call me immediately when something is wrong, I'm going to be here waiting for you.'

I nodded and sighed softly, stepping out of the car. I walked to his house and rang the bell. It took a few minutes for Clay to open and he smiled. He could barely stand on his feet and started laughing. It was obvious he was really, but really drunk.

1014 words