Numb (DreamNotFound)

26

TW's:
-Guilt/hungover/relapse
-Throwing up
-Mentions self harm

Clay's POV

I woke up with a really bad headache. Every light in my room was too bright and I held my eyes closed. I was extremely nauseous and dizzy too. I had no idea why I felt like this, I must have woken up really sick or something. Would my parents be at home?

'Mum? Dad? I'm sick.'

I heard footsteps coming up the stairs and the door opened slowly after a while.

'Mum, can you get something for me, I'm really-. George?'

'Clay,' George smiled softly. He was pale and he seemed really broken.

'Huh, why are you here?'

'What do you need me to get you?'

'I feel like throwing up.'

'I'll get you a bowl or something.'

'Thanks, but why are you here?'

'Do you not remember anything of what happened, Clay?'

'Did something happen?'

'Can you please think a little harder? I'm going to get you something for if you have to throw up.'

George walked away and I was trying to figure out all steps I went through yesterday. I knew I saved George out of the building and I could go home because I wanted to take George on a date. My parents got mad at me and I was home alone. I went to the cellar and-.

'No, no, no. Please tell me this isn't true,' I screamed.

George came back upstairs and ran into my room. 'What's wrong?'

'Is it true?'

'Is what true?'

'I- did I- please, tell me I haven't.'

'You relapsed, I'm sorry.'

'What did I do?'

'You drank a lot of alcohol. But really, a lot.'

'Was I drunk?'

'Yeah, you were. I'm sorry.'

'No, please. I wasn't, that's a joke right?'

'I'm sorry, but it isn't a joke. You were really drunk when I came here to surprise you.'

'I'm so sorry, I actually am. I'm not myself when I'm drunk, did I do something?'

'I would rather not talk about it.'

'Please tell me, I want to know what I did.'

'Well, you were weird. You were trying to kiss me and you called me weird names. And you called me hot the whole time and I guess you also called me boring because I didn't want to have sex with you.'

'What? Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry-.'

'It's okay.'

'Did I do anything?'

'Well, you lifted my shirt up and you started touching me and kissing my chest, but I pushed you away.'

I suddenly had a small flashback in my head and remembered the feeling of shock. I remember seeing his whole belly filled with scars.

'George, can you lift up your shirt?'

'What? No, that's uh- not necessarily at all.'

'George, please.'

George sighed and lifted his shirt up a centimetre, revealing multiple scars. He immediately pushed his shirt down again and flushed completely red.

'Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. Is that why you came to my place?'

'Yeah, I cut myself a lot and I needed you, but it's fine.'

'Oh no, I feel so bad. You needed me and I was drunk as hell. I'm so sorry, I actually am.'

'It's okay, don't worry.'

'No, it's not. I'm so sorry, you needed me and I was annoying as hell and drunk.'

'It's fine, I'm just worried about you.'

'Don't be, I'm okay. I'm just freaking stupid, but I don't care about myself. Are you okay? Where did you cut?'

'My arms and belly.'

I couldn't care less about myself and I stood up. I took a deep breath to not pass out and I sat back down for a second, trying to ignore the extreme nausea that was coming up.

It didn't take long before I threw up, luckily I was quick enough to grab the bowl and kept throwing up. George ran towards me and hugged me against his body, wiping hair out of my face.

'I'm so sorry,' I whispered. 'I'm actually so ashamed and mad at myself. I should have helped you, I promised I was here to help you.'

George smiled and pulled me closer. 'It's okay. I feel only really bad for you.'

'Don't, it's my fault.'

'It's not your fault.'

'It is, I could have chosen not to drink.'

'But you're really addicted and you had the perfect opportunity.'

'But I'll never be able to go to any parties or anything. I'm never getting better.'

'I'm going to clean this bowl, I'll be right back, okay?'

I nodded and sat back against my bed. I was still sitting on the ground and George came back with the bowl and some water. I drank it all immediately and I looked at George.

'Can I see your arms?'

'Why?'

'I want to kiss every single scar.'

George rolled up his sleeves and took off the bandages. I looked at the maybe even hundred cuts, I didn't care how long it would take, I was going to kiss every single scar. I could see George blushing brightly and he smiled softly at me. It took me a while, but after I kissed every single scar, I lifted my head up and looked at him.

We both smiled shyly and I hugged him against my body.

'Even when I relapsed, even when you cut yourself again and you're still so stuck with everything. In the end George, in the end I'll always be here with you.'

1044 words