Borders & Rules

Chapter 8

Trigger warning: Please don't read this chapter if you're sensitive to the topic of self-harm.

Mary sat down with me at lunch and asked me how I was doing. I didn't even know what to answer, as awkward as I was with people these days. I was uncomfortable as soon as I wasn't alone. I thought everyone would stare at me. But I nodded to her and said, „I'm okay."

„I'm sorry," she said. „It sure sucks that everyone makes fun of you. But I'm really scared that they'll laugh at me too if I'm always with you."

To be honest I was tired of talking. I nodded, but I didn't mean it. All I wanted was to go back into my room. „Don't worry about it."

„I think Kevin feels the same way. He's happy to finally be one of the cool kids. And he'll leave tomorrow anyway." The moment she said that, something broke in me. It felt like a stab in my heart. And she just said that like it was nothing.

I felt a lump in my throat as I looked at her. „Tomorrow already?"

She nodded. „You didn't know?"

„No."

„A nurse saw his arms yesterday," she said carefully. „Or rather forced him to show her because he was scratching himself all the time." She looked at me, almost apologetically. „She saw the new wounds."

„W..." I swallowed the shock. „What?"

„Since he's not getting better they decided to let him go home."

„He has new wounds?"

She nodded. „Apparently he used his nails and teeth to hurt himself. I mean I heard that. He doesn't even talk to me. But people talk around a lot here."

I looked at Kevin, remembering how he rummaged around in my drawer like he was looking for something. He sat there with the cool kids and smiled while two of his friends laughed at how wobbly the jelly dessert was and turned the plates upside down to see if it stuck. One of them snorted as the pudding fell out.

„Poor him," I muttered to myself. „That must have really hurt."

„I think that was the point," Mary said. Kevin's eyes met mine and I looked back at my food. Stop. Staring.

Kevin spent his last evening in the TV room with his friends. I didn't know what to say when he returned at night. But there was still so much to say and so much I wanted to know. „I heard you're leaving tomorrow."

He sat on his bed and took out his notes. He just glanced at me for a second. That was all.

„What are you writing all the time?"

„Nothing." I couldn't interprete his voice. Was he angry? Annoyed? Just tired? I had no idea.

„Are you writing a diary?"

His eyes pierced me with anger. „I'm not a fucking child."

„Can I ask you something before you leave?"

„You will ask anyway."

I covered myself and turned to the right to face him. „Why do you hate me so much?" I wasn't allowed to stare, but it might have been the last time I'd have the chance to, so I didn't hesitate this time. „We were friends, right?" I asked. „What changed? I haven't done anything to you."

He stared into his notebook. Then started writing again. Maybe he was just pretending, I mean talking and writing at the same time was difficult. „It's not you I hate," he mumbled. „It's how you're looking at me."

I rolled over in my bed and stared at the ceiling, my arms resting on my stomach. „How am I looking at you?"

„Like you want something."

I closed my eyes. Did I really look at him like that? „All I wanted was to be your friend," I said, my voice low and tired. „Get well." I turned to face the wall, pretending to go to sleep but my throat was burning and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. „At home."