My Saving Grace

September 20, 2013

Triggering! Please please don't read this or any of the next few chapters if you are triggered by self harm, suicidal thoughts, suicide itself or anything along those lines! Just don't do that to yourself! Now on with the story!

Scott's P.O.V.

I was sat against the bathroom door. My hands covered over my ears and my eyes squeezed tightly shut. They were there, screaming insults and threats, telling me what to do. Silence was not a thing in my world anymore.

As I opened my eyes I noticed the tall dark figure in the corner. Shouting the words that were being said in my head. Making it louder and more real. The dark figure that had taken form and would haunt my every waking move, my nightmares and my daydreams. It was there standing over Mitch or behind Alex. It was shouting words that they couldn't hear.

This figure was the embodiment of my biggest fears. It held what I feared most, life, death, loneliness. And I couldn't tell anyone because they would think I was mental. That I was seeing things. Hallucinating. They'd send me away to a crazy house.

I looked down at my wrists. They were caked in blood. I still cut myself and yet it did nothing to help me anymore. My pain threshold has hit the roof. Physical pain that is. Emotional pain was a whole different thing though.

You could just kill yourself and then all this will be over! No one cares about you, y'know! Everyone hates you! You're an inconvenience to the world! I'm surprised they haven't kicked you out of Pentatonix yet! Maybe they haven't cause they're scared you'll kill yourself! Scared that they'll have to act sad because you're dead!

I looked up at the figure who was laughing at me. My ears were pounding, my brain spinning.

"Scott?" There was a soft knock at the door and I quickly stood up and walked over to the sink. The figure disappearing momentarily. "Scott? Are you alright?" Mitch asked.

"I'm fine." I croaked, washing my arms vigorously in the sink. I dried them and pulled down my sleeves, rushing towards the door. I unlocked it and stepped out to see Mitch.

"You were in there a while." He said, smiling. I couldn't concentrate on his voice though. Looking over his head I noticed the figure. Taunting me. Shouting. Screaming. Terrifying. Mind controlling.

"I'm going to go lie down." I whispered. Mitch looked up, noticing my eyes fixated on the spot over his head. He turned and looked straight at the figure. But he couldn't see it obviously. It was a fragment of my imagination. Mitch turned back around.

"You want me to lie with you?" Mitch asked.

You know he doesn't want to! He just wants to make sure you don't kill yourself! Which you probably soon! Give up! Because you can't take it! You can't take anything! You're too weak!

"Scott?" He asked. My breath was caught in my throat, my lungs unable to fill. My eyes were clouding over as my brain became over oxygenated. I stepped backwards, my back hitting the wall next to the bathroom door. I slid down still trying to fill my lungs.

"Scott, breath....." Mitch said, crouching down in front of me. I could feel my brain shutting down, blocking him off. My ears were thudding, my heart rate pulsing. I rested my head against the wall as I heard a muffled noise of a door opening.

"Alex, do something. I don't know what to do." Mitch's voice was muffled like I was underwater. I couldn't breath and my throat was on fire. My eyes began to fill with tears and one after the other fell down my face.

"Scott. Stay with me." Alex said, he was now sat by my side.

"I'm... Under... Water....I... Can't.... Swim...." I was floating away, my thoughts bubbling over. It felt like there was a current pulling me away from the two boys sat in front of me and yet the figure and voices just got louder and closer.

"You're not underwater Scott. You're in your sitting room, in your apartment, in LA. Control it, stand up to it, Scott. Don't let it take over. You will be able to breath if you just stand up to it." Alex's voice was soothing and my breathing calmed.

The tall, dark figure began to turn into smoke. Now it was flying around Alex's head and now it came towards me, blowing away when it hit my face. I emptied my lungs and blinked.

Alex moved forward and wiped the tears from my face. "What's happening to you?" He whispered, looking over my face for signs. I need to explain! To let him take me to a doctor!

Oh, no you don't! Nothing can save you! They don't care anyway! It's just a false face they're putting on!

The voice whispered into my ears. Blowing cold air onto my neck.

"Mitch, we need to take him to a doctor. I can't stand to see him like this anymore-"

"No, Alex. Please. They'll take me away. They won't let me see you, either of you. I... I can't do that..." The voices began to laugh, loudly, taunting me. "Shut up!!" I shouted, slamming my fist against the ground.

Mitch jumped back and so did Alex. "Scott, this is hurting you. I can't bear to see it." Mitch whispered.

"I... I... I can't.... I promise I'll get better by myself. I'll stop having panic attacks. I'll stop scaring you." I reasoned. Alex moved forward again and held my face in his two hands.

"This is not about us. This is about you. You are hurting and if you go to a doctor they can help." Alex ran his thumb along my check catching a stray tear that had fallen.

"Give me a week. Please... I promise I'll get better in a week... If not you can take me to a doctor and get me off of your hands..." I stammered. Alex closed his eyes and breathed.

"You are not an inconvenience, Scott!" Mitch said. I nodded, knowing he was lying. They tell me that all the time.

"I guess we have a deal." Alex said, sighing. I nodded, feeling relief wash over. A week would give me enough time. I had planned in two days before. A week would give me just enough time.

I felt Alex pull me in and kiss me slowly. I would miss this....