Someone Like You

16

Warnings:
-Mentions self harm/suicidal thoughts
-Mentions sexual assault/rape

George's POV

Clay came back with lifted shoulders and a sad face. 'They all laughed at me and yelled mean things like that I'm an attention whore and that I have a perfect life...'

'I believe you, okay? I saw your bruises and I know your life is far from perfect.'

He sniffed softly and held me tightly. 'You were right, George... I do cut myself, because I can't deal with it anymore. I constantly live in fear or with a mask to act cool.'

I wrapped my arm around his shoulders again and grabbed his hand, intertwining our fingers together. 'I told you that you're not alone,' I smiled shortly. 'Do you want to try together?'

He looked at me shortly. 'How?'

'Quit together,' I offered. 'We are so much stronger together than alone. What's the longest you've been clean?'

'I don't know... three days? You?'

'Probably a week or something. Do you want to try to get to one week together? Obviously we keep trying after that one week, but one week can be our first goal!'

He smiled shortly. 'I just don't know how to stop if I have urge to cut myself. I always end up doing it.'

'Then you text me, alright? And I'll call you. Then I'm going to talk to you and I can even come to you if you still really want to cut yourself. There's one thing, though...'

'Yeah?'

'Do you genuinely want to try to quit? Because if you're going to lie about it, we don't even have to try this. I don't want to sound rude, I'm sorry.'

'No, you don't sound rude and I get your point. I do want to quit because I hate my scars and I just want to be able to play soccer normally again. I just can't stop when I have a blade and no one around me. Do you want to quit?'

'I didn't want to quit an hour ago, but I feel motivated because we can do it together,' I smiled. 'I actually want to try.'

'Together,' he answered with a happy smile. 'How do I know we are both actually going to try? Since it's easy to just lie about it.'

'Come.' I lifted him up and walked to the bathroom, lifting my sleeves up. 'You can just check if there's any new scars. I only cut my wrists, because I don't want more scars on my body. I promise.'

He nodded softly. 'I uh- cut my arms, stomach and thighs... Do I need to show you too?'

'I trust you,' I smiled. 'You don't need to show me anything if you're uncomfortable and I will trust you on your word.'

Clay smiled and then lifted his sleeves till his elbows. 'There, it's at least something.'

I grabbed his hands and turned them around, looking at his scars. I gently ran my thumb over his scars and very recent cuts. He looked at me with a shy face as I lifted his arm up higher.

'Every single one of these cuts are signs of how strong you are,' I whispered as I gently rubbed his arm.

'I feel like they are there because of how weak I am...'

'No, because every time you cut yourself you've felt so incredibly hopeless that you didn't know what to do anymore. When I hurt myself, I had suicidal thoughts too. Every time I grabbed the blade, I could have ended my life. I've had the opportunity, I wanted to... but I didn't.'

He has tears in his eyes as he stared at me and I smiled.

'I cut myself instead of ending it all. Don't get me wrong, it's definitely not a good thing to cut, but all these scars mean that I fought through the pain and didn't end it again. All the times I cut, I felt hopeless and I wanted it to end, but just as I didn't, you didn't end it either. You're still here.'

He didn't answer, but a proud smile filled his face.

'You're way stronger than you think, you're so much stronger than Sapnap and all those idiots. Yes, you harm yourself and they don't, but every time you've harmed yourself, you felt worthless, hopeless... and so on. But you're still here.'

'I'm still here,' he repeated slowly. 'After years of abuse and... other things, I'm still here.'

I smiled and lifted his arm up to my face, pressing my lips on his most recent cuts. After I pulled away again, I saw him with tears streaming down his face.

'I've always wished that someone would do that to me,' he whispered. 'I thought my girlfriend would be the one to do that, but she laughs at my cuts and says I'm looking for attention.'

'What else did you wish for?'

'Someone like you,' he mumbled. 'I wished to meet someone who I could trust and who didn't blame me for my past mistakes. I wished I could meet someone who would hug me when I cried without blaming me for it and someone who would never laugh at whatever I said.'

'Is there more going on in your life that you want to talk about, Clay? Take all the time you need, don't tell me anything if you're not ready.'

He turned quiet and looked at our hands locked, staring at both our cuts. He pulled his sleeves down and I did the same as he pressed his back against the wall.

'You know... my girlfriend, she-,' he started, turning quiet again. He looked at his feet and shook his head. 'I'm not sure how to start.'

'You don't have to tell me if you're not ready,' I smiled, standing next to him with my arm around his shoulder. 'Take your time.'

'I've never wanted to do it with her,' he whispered quieter than ever. His face was bright red as he looked away. 'But she keeps forcing me.'

I didn't say anything and just pulled me in for a tight hug. 'I'm here for you. It's okay to cry, it's okay to stay quiet for a little.'

He stayed quiet, really quiet. 'George? Can we do something to distract me? I'm really sad.'

'Alright, we are going to draw. I know you like drawing,' I answered. 'Let's go.'

1054 words