Twenty Five.

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I heard the door slam. "I got a fucking B in History!" Felix called.

"Really? Good job!" I congratulated him. Today, everyone had got their exam results, and overall I was pretty pleased with my results. I had got B's in everything except one A in history.

We exchanged results and high-fived. Both of us had done really well. Felix smiled and hugged me. "I'm proud of my bab."

As he hugged me, I felt moisture on his arms. "What the...?" He snatched his arms away. I grabbed them and pulled up his hoodie sleeves.

Blood.

He shivered as I stroked the bleeding cuts. "Felix..." I whispered. My heart shattered.

"I..." Felix stammered.

"I thought you were happy..." I felt hot tears welling up in my eyes.

"I am, but..." he looked almost disappointed.

"But what?" I whispered.

"I'm myself." he muttered and I stared up at him. A tear rolled down his cheek.

"Felix... why?" My grip tightened on his arm and he winced in pain. I let go and turned away, unable to face the perfect boy who hates himself.

"Adrianna I couldn't help it." he said, his voice low. The pure emotion in his voice filled my mind with memories of his suicide attempt, all those months ago on the cliff.

"You're not going to try and kill yourself again are you?" I muttered, almost unable to speak.

"What? No!" Felix sighed.

"I don't know what to say..." I said after a moment's silence. By now there were tears flooding down my face and I disappeared into our bedroom.

I lay numbly on the bed, unsure of what to feel.

The door creaked open and Felix walked in. "Bab... Don't cry." He looked heartbroken. Sadly, he sat on the bed and stroked my hair out of my face.

"Adrianna..." Felix mumbled. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't say sorry to me, say it to yourself." I said softly.

Felix stood up and left the room, not stopping to look round. Why does he do this? I thought he was over this shit. I thought he was happy.

After laying in bed for about an hour, thinking about all the memories, all the tears and all the happiness I'd shared with Felix, I decided to get up and see him.

Hopefully he didn't think I was angry at him. I wasn't. I was just angry at his feelings.

"Felix?" I called as I entered the living room. Silence. Suddenly, I noticed something horrifying.

The kitchen cupboard where we kept our alcohol was open and completely empty. Felix, no. Not again.

"Felix!" I shouted. No reply.

Before I knew what was happening, I was throwing my shoes on and running outside. As I leapt into the car, I tried to think of all the places Felix would go.



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