The Monster Under the Bed || Kickthestickz

Lets Sail the Seven Trees

"Race you to the top?" I shout, outstretching my arm and clinging on to the thick-set branch above my head. Using all the power I can muster I heave myself upwards and swing my legs over the wood. I love climbing trees. It sounds a bit cliché I know, but I really do. Just the freedom and the liberty of it all. The aroma of the woodland all around us dances and swirls through my nose and the hustle and bustle of the leaves whipping throughout the wind sets my mind on fire. Everything is so beautiful out here. So calm, so fresh. My moment of hesitation comes to a screeching halt as Pj's torso flies up and out of my view. The race. I sleekly push myself up and over branch upon branch, closing the distance between us with each movement I make. Pj may be taller, but I have the practice of climbing up and down this tree often. The placement of each branch is familiar to me and I swing through them with ease. With two more hauls of my arms, the green-eyed boy and I are neck and neck. Within seconds of pulling myself up to his level we reach the top of the tree, panting and out of breath.

"I so won," he states.

"No way! If I hadn't stopped to let you catch up I would have got up hours ago," I protest with a laugh.

"Whatever. I'll just let you believe that, then, shall I?" he jokes as he playfully punches my arm. Our eyes are locked and smiles etched upon our faces. I wouldn't trade this moment with anyone, for anything. All that is visible between us is out friendship. And as strange as it may seem- a bully and the victim, nattering away at the top of a tree- is perfect.

"Take a look," I whisper; breaking the eye contact and turning my head to glance out at the stunningly delightful landscape before us. His flawless eyes scan the horizon, taking in every aspect of our surroundings in this short space of time. "I come out here when I've had enough, when I can't take it anymore, if I can't cope. And I just sit. Let my thoughts take over. Try to get everything into perspective. Usually, though I bring out my doodle book and make silly little drawings about what I feel or what is happening in my life. It's a- it's a bit stupid really-"

"It's not. It's inspiring. If I were you, I know I would have snapped by now."

Glaring at my fingers, I tie and untie them into knots. I grind my teeth back and forth as tears threateningly prick my eyes, looking for a way to escape. "Don't cry" I mutter to myself. I clench my shaking hands into fists an dig my nails into my palms, biting my quivering lip and using all my force to prevent those tears from breaking through the barrier.

"Chris?" Pj murmurs. Finally, I raise my head and stare into his eyes. In that brief moment, I know I can trust him.

"That's the problem though!" I say, barely audible. "I can't cope! It's- it's all too much." My self-restraint demolishes, and the tears come flooding out, streaking down my cheeks and drawing perfect lines in the make-up upon my face. "It's been too much for a long while now! I found it getting harder and harder to think of a reason too even stay here anymore- to be on this planet!" Now it's started I cannot stop. For years I've been trying to find a way to escape, to tell someone. For them to understand. But the longer I've been keeping it all stored up; the pressure has been rising and rising- until now. "I have no idea what to do! I- I- I- It's even affecting me into my sleep! It's horrendous and I w-want it to stop! I get nightmares every single night. It's got to the point where I just try not to sleep." The sobs racking through my body make me unable to even finish my sentence. I flop my head forward into my hands. Again, pulling at my hair, trying to claw as hard as possible as the individual strands. Two, strong arms wrap unexpectedly round my body, their comfort enveloping me and sending the feeling of safety traveling through my bones.

"Look at me," Pj's voice softly slid through the air. "You should have told me earlier. I promise you, that you will get through this. And I will be there to support you no matter what." The accidental crack of his voice sets fresh tears in my eyes to match his newly sprung ones. The green of his eyes looks brighter, rimmed with the tears that I caused him. "I don't care anymore, not what anyone thinks. You, Christopher James Kendall, do not deserve to feel like this. This hell you are is going to stop. You're going to sleep like a baby!" His fists grab on to each side of the front of my jumper, his hand tangling the material between his beautiful skin. He glances down at my left arm, and I understand. He knows. Tentatively, he rolls up the sleeve of my hoodie, the scratchy material rubbing against the cotton of my shirt. And just as slowly as before, he holds my gaze and silently undoes the button on the cuff of my sleeve. Looking down, he is cautious whilst turning my sleeve over in delicate and uniformed rolls, up to my elbow. Once he is done, his eyes look back at the red and raw skin that had hidden beneath my clothing not five seconds before. "I don't want you to hurt yourself anymore. You savvy?"