you were released from the hospital four days after that. they prescribed you pain medication and to make sure you change your wrap twice a day so your healing wound won’t get affected.
not one word has been said from your mouth since the time you got stabbed. i don’t blame you. your parents are trying to get you to talk, but nothing. my mother even tried once. she came out with nothing also.
i’m scared to try to talk to you. i only talked to you while you were asleep.
everyone says i should try, but is trying really worth it anymore?
are you worth it?
so much, jasper.
that’s why i’m standing outside your bedroom, waiting to convince myself that you’re worth all the little bits and pieces of everything combined.
i knock on the door and i get no response. so, i open the door and walk in. you don’t look at me as i sit down at the foot of the bed.
“hey, champ,” i say.
silence.
“you look better…”
you block me out by turning up the television and i sigh deeply.
“i understand you don’t want to see anyone or to talk to anyone, but this is important, jasper.”
you turn the television up more.
“you have to communicate with us, so we can help you.”
it gets louder.
“you just have to tell us.”
its gets even louder.
“jasper!” i yell over the television. i snatch the remote out of your hand and turn it down. i throw it across the room and you look at me.
“what happened?” i whisper defeated. “please.”
you look at your uneaten plate of food and sigh deeply and shakily. “i’m afraid to tell you,” you whisper. i look at you in surprise as you finally talk and i feel like smiling, but nothing is smile worthy as everything is so bittersweet.
“i won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re afraid of—“
“no,” you say, looking at me with those jade eyes. “i’m afraid because it’s about you.”
“what about me?” i quietly ask.
“can you hold my hand?” you suddenly ask in a tone that sounds pleading and full of hurt. i slide over to you and hold your hand with mine as i intertwine our fingers together.
“okay,” i say. your hand is clammy and i squeeze it reassuringly.
i give you a small smile. your eyes flicker down and you take a deep, shaky breath. “it all started when i was fifteen...”
