Chapter Twelve

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Trigger Warnings
Self-Harm
Depression
Blood

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"I know. . . I know, just. . ."

I'm surprised when I feel arms wrap around me, but I instinctively pull him closer. "I-I couldn't stop myself. I t-tried. Th-they wouldn't stop. The voices w-wouldn't st-stop."

By now I can feel my own eyes welling with tears. He squeezes tight and I do the same, hoping that by some miracle I'm doing something to help. There's still blood all around out, and on our clothes, but it doesn't seem to matter right now. "It's okay," I say quietly. "Just. . . You're alive. That's the most important thing."

I feel Connor's grip loosen and he pulls away, looking at me. At first he says nothing, just looks at me. "Wh-why did you bother to come," he asks. "If you— if you were busy. . ."

"You asked me to come," I say quietly. "I-I was afraid something was wrong. . . That you needed someone. . ."

I can hardly watch as Connor looks down, rubbing the band aids that I had put on his cuts just minutes ago. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn't. Instead, he closes his eyes. After a minute, he opens them again and looks back up at me. "Can you help me clean up?" he asks, his voice still a bit shaky. "I feel a bit. . . Dizzy."

"Why don't you just sit in your bed and let me clean up for you," I suggest. I can see the bleary look in his eyes, and I know that rest is probably the best thing for him right now. I'm a bit worried at the same time, it looks as if he's lost a lot of blood, but his voice is clear despite his trembling, and color is starting to return to his face. I'm sure that more than anything he's just exhausted; physically and emotionally.

"You don't have to," he says quietly, standing up and leaning against his bed. "You probably need to get home before it starts getting dark."

At the moment, I'm not completely sure I want to leave him. I'm afraid for him to be alone in this state. Already once he's acted on his thoughts, and I worry that he will again. I know I can't stay forever, though.

"It's still a while before it gets dark," I say, taking another wipe and starting to clean the mess from the floor. It doesn't take too long, and I take the wipes and throw them away before returning the kit to the closet. It's then when I see it again — the razor. I think about throwing it away too, but when I glance at Connor I can't. What if he found it and used it again? Instead, I slip it in my pocket. I can get rid of it at home.

"Hey, Evan?"

I look up and see that Connor is looking at me. I'm not sure if he noticed what I took, so I just nod for him to continue.

"Please don't tell my parents. . . I can't handle their reaction again. It's too much. . ."

"But if you're hurting. . ."

"They don't care, Evan. They never have," he snaps. I flinch away and he notices, shaking his head. "Sorry, it's just, complicated. It doesn't make things any easier."

"I won't tell them but just. . . Next time you feel this way just keep texting or calling me until I answer. We can talk or I can come over or you can come over and we can just try to think about something else, alright? I know it's not that simple but it couldn't hurt to try."

Connor sighs and closes his eyes. I can tell he doesn't want to agree. This is someone who has lived feeling alone for a long time. I'm sure it different having some to talk to. I still have that feeling that maybe it's not real. Maybe he's just using me, but at least maybe I'm able to help someone, even if I end up getting nothing in return.

"Thanks," he murmurs, slipping on his hoodie and pulling the sleeves down to cover his wrists. He looks so upset and so broken, and I desperately want to come over and hug him again, letting him know it'll be alright, but I don't see him wanting me to. Right now, he probably wants to be alone.

"Do you need me to stay a while longer. . ? If you still. . . If you're still thinking about it. . ."

"Don't worry about it, Evan," he says. "I'm just. . . Just gonna try to sleep, I think. You can stay if you want, but you probably need to get home."

I nod slightly and walk over to him, resting my hand on his shoulder for a moment. "If you need anything please call me."

"I will. . . Thanks. And hey, if you still want me to come over. . ."

"Of course, if you feel up to it," I say quickly. "I'll send those directions after school tomorrow and you can come over whenever."

"Okay," he nods. "Thank you, really. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Connor. . ."

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