El Tango De Sal

Chapter 6 - Runaway Train

Runaway Train - Soul Asylum

TW for:
-Anxiety attacks
-Abuse
-Self-Harm
-Mental breakdown
-Alcohol
-Suicide
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After that night, Travis and Sal were nearly inseparable. The gang didn't mind, they were just relieved that Sal was talking to them again, laughing again. All but Larry, who opted to sit as far away from Sal as possible. It stung, but Sal figured he should have expected it. Larry and him had fought before, but never like that. It had never gotten physical, and Sal knew it was his fault, but he had been so out of it.

He started to lay off the alcohol since the night with Travis, opting to try and ignore the itch. Of course he slipped up some, but not nearly as bad as he had been doing. Despite Larry somehow avoiding him completely for two weeks, Sal still felt ok. He missed his friend, though. Travis was a delight to be around nowadays though, and Sal could sometimes catch Larry glancing at the two when they would laugh or talk a bit louder. Sal didn't know why, but the glance was gone as quickly as it had came.

Seeing Larry definitely put a damper on Sal's mood most days, and it was usually picked back up by Travis, but today he just wasn't feeling it. Travis could tell, and he simply rubbed Sal's back when he was at his locker. "Bad day, Blue?" he asked, the nickname falling easily off his tongue nowadays. Sal wouldn't admit it, but he loved it. Sal didn't say anything, simply nodded as he put his stuff away, glad that he only had two more periods before he could escape to his house to be miserable alone.

Travis nodded, "I get it..." he said, "hey, if you need to talk or anything after school, don't hesitate to text me or call me, okay?" he asked with a small smile. Sal nodded, "yeah... thanks Trav. I'll see you later..." he said with a wave as he turned to head to his next class, a heaviness on his mind as he sat in his chair. While his teacher talked, he couldn't really hear her. He felt like he was underwater, everything sounded muffled and his vision was clouded with water. Ah, no, those were tears. He blinked them away, then raised his hand to go to the restroom.

He grabbed his backpack, heading to the bathrooms and going into a stall, setting his bag down and sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. He knew it felt like a long time ago, but something still hurt about what Larry said.

He knew that his dad hurt him, but he never said a word about it. He couldn't have just... asked? He said that he would have denied it, but Sal himself didn't know if he would. If it were Larry asking, he would probably tell the truth. That's what hurt -- he had so much trust in Larry, and it felt like he shattered it, along with whatever shards of friendship they had. Sal clutched his chest, suddenly feeling the weight on his chest again. Oh God, oh no. Not now, please don't have a stupid panic attack right now.

But his thought quickly diminished as he had to focus on breathing now. He tried to breathe in through his nose, out through his mouth, but it wasn't working. He yanked his prosthetic off, setting it on his bag so he could get more air in his lungs. It didn't help much as he slid his hands to his pigtails, yanking them hard as his chest heaved. God, why was this happening now? The only person that he knew that could calm him down was Larry, and he was obviously not going to do anything. Would he?

He fumbled with his backpack, finally getting his phone out after some fight. He went to Larry's number, sending a quick text.

Sal: hey laryr? Yo u arou nd?

The text was messy, but his shaking hands couldn't do any better than that. He leaned his head back, covering his eyes as tears fell. He definitely wasn't going to answer. He started to spiral in his thoughts when he heard his phone ding with a new text. He blinked, looking at the phone and picking it up to read the message.