Broken [Book 1 of 2]

Chapter Four-

My dad took me to fix my phone. He was a lot closer to me than my mom ever was, despite them both being terrible parents.

"Thanks for taking me," I said.

"No problem. How did you break it?" He asked.

"I was mad, like really mad," I answered. My dad knew there was more than that but he dropped the subject.

We went inside and bought a new screen. The lady swapped the screen out and we were off.

"That was quick," I said.

"I know," My dad replied, "When we get home you should probably eat something then get some rest." I nodded just to make him feel content, I didn't want to get yelled at again for not wanting to eat.

•••

I haven't used my phone all day. There was more then 50 texts and calls, waiting to be seen. I finally picked up my phone and read everything.

One text said, "I swear to god it wasn't about you."

Another said, "Please listen to me"

All of them were like that. I was about to shut off my phone when I came across a really long text.

"Look, that text WASN'T about you. It was about my other "internet friend". She's not even my friend. She's just a fan that I've been talking to, which I shouldn't have even been doing because you're the only one I care about. She wanted to meet me, so we met. She lives about an hour away from you, so that's why I said, 'I wish I never came down to see her'. She was really annoying and clingy. You don't have to believe me, but that is the truth."

I cried reading that text. How could I be so stupid? So immature? So thoughtless? I felt guilty. I totally jumped to conclusions so fast without hearing the actual story. I have no sympathy. I hated myself.

I texted back immediately, saying, "Words cannot describe how sorry I am. I let my thoughts sink into the worst possible scenario, that I didn't even care to hear the truth. I'm sorry Cam. Forgive me?"

Cam texted me back saying, "You're forgiven. You always will be." Just when I started to think he would never forgive me. People like me should be thankful for a friend like him. I don't deserve him. To be fair, I didn't feel forgiven. Was he lying?

•••

"Cam," I smiled as he walked through the door. I hugged him tightly, like I was never gonna let go. Him, however... He didn't hug me how he usually does. Usually I feel safe, warm, and strong, but this wasn't the case.

"Is something wrong?" I ask him, letting go. His eyes don't quite reach mine.

"Yeah, I guess so," He answered.

"I know you're lying," I mumbled, rolling my eyes. He sighed, walking away from me and pulled out a chair.

"Sit," he motioned from me to the chair. I nodded and sat. Cam grabbed a chair of his own and sat in front of me.

"What's wrong?" I question, cautiously. He's never like this.

"I-I'm still kinda mad at you. For thinking that I lied, or something. I didn't quite get the whole memo, you were confusing me. But you didn't trust me," Cameron choked. His eyes were getting watery, but he was good at keeping them inside, "I would never say anything like that behind your back. I love you, I really do, but I don't wanna be with someone who thinks I'm not trustworthy. Someone's always gonna end up getting hurt."

I was speechless. Nothing came out when I opened up my mouth to speak. My eyes too were getting watery, but I let a few tears loose.

"Cameron," I sobbed, "I do trust you."

"No you don't," he said a little louder, standing up from his chair, "or else you would've given me a chance to explain before jumping to conclusions."

Scared, I looked away. My mind had no filter, so I automatically yelled, "If you can't trust me either, then I don't wanna be together either!"

I regretted every single word after that.

"I never said I wanted to not be together!" Cam yelled of embarrassment, "I just said I don't wanna be with SOMEONE who can't trust me! We were supposed to fix this, not end it!"

"Oh my god," I mumbled under my breath, "Did I really just say that?"

"Yes," He whimpered, obvious tears streaming down his face. I really hurt him. We haven't even been a thing for that long, but before that he was still my best friend.

"I'm sorry," I bawled, getting up and running to the bathroom. I locked the door, quickly, before Cam could get in.

"Jayde, open up this door right now," Cam demanded, banging on the door and struggling at the lock.

"I need to be alone right now," I sobbed, pulling out a random razor.

With a loud bang, Cam came through the door. He busted it open.

"Hurting yourself is NOT the answer, Jay!" Cam cried.

"Yes it is!" I cried louder, "The thing about depression is that you get so sad you cannot feel anything. So hurting yourself is the only way you can feel something, so I feel obligated to do it." Ignoring his response, I took the blade and sliced it across my skin.

Cam gasped at the sight of blood dripping down my arm and frantically looked away. Suddenly, he reached out and took another one from my drawer.

"I know," he said, "I've gone through it." He sliced his skin on his wrist too.

"NO!" I screeched, trying to stop him. But then it all made sense. For every time I hurt myself, he feels it too. Not physically, but emotionally.

"For every cut you do to yourself, I'll do the same to me," Cam looked down at his wrist, feeling the open wound. It's been years since he last hurt himself, and I ruined it for him. Cautiously, I put down the blade, and so did he.

"Will you make this cut your last one?" He asked with a smile.

I nodded, "Yes. Last one." I grabbed every single blade I owned and threw them in the toilet. I looked at Cam with a sparkle in my eye, and flushed.

"I'm so proud," he said, squeezing my shoulders while trying to not get blood on my shirt. Not that it really mattered, anyway.

I grabbed two band-aids out of my medicine cabinet and handed one to him. We covered up the evidence and walked out of the bathroom. Our hands met, and laced, and he took me out of the house.

Today is a new day. A new life. A new life, that begins now.

•••

Later that night Cam and I went to a small tattoo place. Even though I am underage, I look old enough and Cam can get me in without struggle.

"What do you want?" Cam asked me with a nudge.

"Something to symbolize us...What we've been through," I thought out loud.

"Maybe we can get a thin black line on our wrists," Cam suggested, "To represent our promise."

"Yeah," I nodded. It was a good idea. "However, black shows the dark years in me. I don't want to be dark, I wanna be the opposite. Maybe white!"

Cam smiled, "I like that idea!" And that's what we did. Both Cameron and I have a thin white line on our left wrists.

"Cammy-poo," I said.

"Yes, Jaydey-poo?" He replied.

"I think I might love you," I grinned.

"I think I might love you too," He grinned back.