The Art of Dilapidation (Kellic)

10: Wait With Me

Waking up was a painful experience that day. My arm stung and ached, as did my head, eyes, and throat. My lids fluttered open and I focused on Vic's face. He was awake and staring at the ceiling. One of his arms was draped around my shoulders and the other hung limply off the edge of the bed. I shifted next to him and he looked over at me immediately. "You're awake," he breathed.

"I'm awake," I replied, my voice dry and hoarse. I wished I wasn't. I knew that Vic was going to want to talk, and I didn't want to talk. I couldn't even begin to explain what had gone through my head. Even if I could I doubted Vic would understand. I turned my gaze away from him, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Kellin," Vic began softly. "What happened last night?"

"What do you think happened?" I said quietly. Vic sighed and lifted up the arm that hung off the bed. In his hand was clutched the note that I had written the night before. "I found this, Kellin," he murmured. I remained silent unable to find words that were suitable for the situation. I could see Vic watching me out of the corner of my eye, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him full on.

"Kellin, please talk to me," Vic pleaded. "At least look at me or something." I shook my head, sniffling. My throat constricted as I found myself holding back tears yet again. "I'm sorry," I whimpered. Vic quickly wrapped his other arm around me and held me tightly to him. "Don't be sorry, Kell," he whispered. "You don't ever have to be sorry. You hear me? Ever."

"But I made you worried," I said. "I scared you. Why shouldn't I be sorry?"

"Because it's not your fault. There's nothing you can do to stop me from worrying about you," Vic assured me.

"I can think of a couple things," I muttered.

"Hey," Vic said suddenly, tilting my chin up so I was looking at him, "listen to me. Don't think like that. You can't leave me here alone, Kellin."

"Leave you alone?" I said in disbelief. "You wouldn't be alone. You've got all your friends and your family."

"They don't matter. Nothing matters without you." Vic's second sentence was barely audible. It was a curious thing to say which I suppose is why he said it so quietly. His eyes were bright like stars and they shone with a thin film of tears. I quickly changed the subject. "How did you even get here so quick?" I asked. "It's not like you live next door to me."

"Kellin, we have to talk about this," Vic said.

"Vic, the last thing I want to do is talk about this right now," I replied. "Please?" Vic gave a sigh of resignation and looked up at the ceiling. "I got in a fight with my parents and I stormed out. I was sleeping in my car a couple streets away before I called you. When you hung up I got scared and I came in using the key under your welcome mat," he said expressionlessly.

"How'd you know that was there?" I frowned. "Have you been stalking me?"

"Lucky guess," Vic replied blandly. He removed his arm from my shoulders, leaving me feeling cold. He sat up and swung his legs out from under the covers. I watched him as he grabbed a bag from the foot of his bed. "I brought this with me last night," he said. "Can I see your arm?" I sat up and held it out. Vic's eyes widened at the sight of it and he took a deep breath. I suppose that the cuts must've looked worse in the daylight. It was the most mutilated he'd ever seen me at that point. It certainly was ugly, so much so that it made me want to cry again. I looked up at Vic only to see a large brownish red stain on the front of his shirt which made me flinch.

Vic pulled out a travel size bottle of rubbing alcohol and a cotton wad. He poured the alcohol on it and wiped at my forearm. I gasped in pain as the scabs got caught on the cotton and fresh blood beaded up. Vic swore under his breath. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "Maybe you should wash it off first. Get rid of all the dried-the blood." I nodded silently and got up, leaving the room as quickly as I could and keeping my gaze down.