scars | lrh

10

chapter status: edited

E M M A

Michael laid in his bed, out cold. He was paler than usual, and there was one thing that stood the same. His hair. I smiled as it still was brushed to the same side it was when I saw him only hours ago. I took a piece of his hair between my fingers, twirling it, pushing his hair to the side.

I sat in the chair next to his bed, holding his hand.

"Hey, Michael." I whispered, laughing a bit, as Ashton looked over at me from his bed. Smiling at him, I walked over to him, kissing him on the forehead, and he smelled of vomit.

"You're so strong, Emma." Ashton sighed, leaning his head back so he could stare at the ceiling.

"Ashton, I've done terrible things." I spoke honestly, and he only chuckled.

"Why do you let those things define you?" Ashton smiled, and I was just glad his dimples were still there.

"It's hard to focus on all the good things when the bad things are eating me alive." Sighing, I played with the dirt under my finger nails, and I knew it was true. I knew that I always overlooked the good things, even though I should've appreciated them more. Ashton's head shifted towards me, his smile had faded.

"Why did you do it?" Ashton looked me dead in the eyes, and I could barely read his expression.

"Do what?"

"Why did you self harm? Where did it all start?" I looked over at the seat next to Ashton's bed, as he weakly patted the cushioned chair. "C'mon, tell me."

Sitting down, I closed my eyes and tried to picture the scene of how it all started.

+

It was an eerie Sunday morning in the city of London, Emma lived in an apartment with her mother and sister, Lindsay. The apartment wasn't much, but it was enough to support them.

"Lindsay! Get out the bathroom, you twat!" Called a sixteen year old Emma, banging on the door of the bathroom. No reply.

"You've been in there for an hour, come out, I have to brush my teeth!" Emma yelled, her voice a bit more serious this time. She sighed, Lindsay obviously taking advantage of their mom not being home.

"Don't make me pick the lock on you," Emma was now getting annoyed,"Fine! You made me do this!"

Emma annoyingly stomped over to the kitchen, picking up a butter knife, and walking over to the bathroom. Hesitantly, Emma used the knife, turning the lock, the door opening.

"Get ou-" Emma yelled, her voice fading with the sight she was met with.

Her sister's body was under water, in the bathtub, her hand outside of the water, covered in blood.

"No, no, no, no." Emma quickly screamed, running over to the bathtub and pulling her sister out. She sat her on the floor, frantically grabbing towels, and trying to dry her cuts.

"Lindsay, Lindsay please speak to me, please." Emma cried, holding Lindsay's face in her hands. She wiped her sister's makeup off her cheeks with her thumbs, before laying her sister on the ground and performing CPR.

"Come on Lindsay, don't leave me, please." Emma wiped her tears, before realization hit her. Her sister was dead, and she wasn't coming back. Emma held Lindsay in her lap, crying into the shoulder of the lifeless body that was being held in her arms.

+

E M M A

"I wanted to know the pain she felt, without actually killing myself. When I started receiving hate, I tried to convince myself that was a good reason to continue." I told Ashton, wiping my tears after telling him my story. I loved my sister, more than anything in the world. She was beautiful, strong, and she cared about me more than anyone else would ever. My mom blamed me from her death, and then kicked me out, but I excluded that part from the story.

"I'm sorry." Ashton whispered, holding my hand. I pushed his hair back with my free hand, smiling with tears still in my eyes.

"Thank you for listening." I said, Ashton nodding. I stood up from the chair, my eyes meeting a person's eyes in the doorway.

"How long have you been standing there?" I asked Luke, looking over at Michael, not wanting to make eye contact with him again.

"Long enough to wish I hadn't broke up with you." Luke replied, and I could hear the sadness in his voice.

"Luke," Ashton weakly called from his bed,"It's time to tell her." My eyes shifted to Luke and he sighed.

"Emma, let's go for a walk."

.

.

.

L U K E

 We walked through a small park that was near the hospital, her keeping as much distance as necessary.

"So, are you going to tell me?" Emma asked, breaking the silence that was in the air.

"It's not something I can just flat out say." I sighed, scratching the back of my neck.

Emma stepped away from me.

"What is so important that you can't just tell me?!" Emma exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. She didn't know how complicated it actually was.

"Well, there's a lot to it." I tried to sound louder than her, but backed down out of respect for her. My mom nearly cut my head off for breaking up with her, imagine what she'd do if she found out I'd yelled at her.

"Just tell me! What are you gay or something?"

"No."

"Did you sleep with someone else?"

"No."

"Are you depressed?"

"No."

"Did you make a sex tape?"

"Ew." That last one made us both laugh a bit, before we both stopped out of realization of the serious situation.

"Luke, I love you so much and there is nothing is this world you could say that would change that. It's hard knowing you've kept something from me the whole time we've been together and it hurts knowing other people know and I don't. I know what I've done was wrong but I couldn't control myself and I feel like we should both come clean about everything and-"

"Emma!" I yelled, cutting off her rambling.

"What?" She asked, and I sighed.

Here goes fucking nothing.

"I'm transsexual."

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A/N

writing conversations are the hardest thing i swear

- mikaela