This Was A Bad Idea

chapter 17 - past lives

Content warning:

This chapter contains brief implications of self-harm and suicidal ideation. It is not graphic or descriptive.

In addition, it also contains mentions of transphobia.
 
If these topics are triggering to you, please scroll down to the very bottom for a brief summary of the chapter! <333 please stay safe and respect your own boundaries.

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I stifle a nervous grimace and edge my way through it, the toes of my sneakers catching on the uneven curves of the pavement. Xen follows, close behind.

I emerge into a thin passageway collard by forest. There's a small stone bridge branching out over a hollow ditch up ahead. It looks like an old dried-up riverbed. I can make out thin slivers of sky through the fringe of trees.

"Is this it?" I ask.

"Yeah. We'll only stay for like an hour- or, whenever you'd like to leave." She starts. Her face flushes with a sudden hint of shame. "I'm sorry. I woke you up, I asked you to sneak out, to come into the middle of nowhere again-"

"Xen,"

"-I'm stupid, I'm so sorry I just don't think about other people and-"

"Xen, it's okay! I genuinley wanted to come out here. I think you're an incredible person, you didn't do anything wrong at all." I try to say. And it's true. I'm not lying. I needed the distraction. She seems like the person in the group that I'm closest with.

I mean sure, I met Elliot first. But there's something about Xen that just draws me to her. Something that just makes me want to talk to her about anything.

"Are you sure?" She murmurs.

"Yes. I promise. Do you trust me?" I stifle a laugh, repeating the same thing she said to me on the phone. She nods.

We end up sitting on the guardrail of the stone bridge, letting our legs dangle off the side. We've just been talking, about anything. Everything. For the first time scince I moved here, I've been able to just be open to someone without being scared that I'll get hurt.

"-I wish I had called the police as soon as we got out of the tunnel." I say. Somehow, the conversation has switched to what happened. But for some reason, I dont mind. It feels safe to talk about it here.

"Honestly….me too. They could have come earlier." She takes a sharp inhale. "Elliot grew up in the foster care system. He's tried to run away a few times. So he's scared of being taken back to somewhere he doesn't like. He's struggled a lot. He's staying with an aunt here, though- and he seems a lot better. I've been friends with him scince he moved here and hes told me a lot."

The air grows heavy around us, but we sit in  comfortable silence for a few seconds.

I didn't know that.

We talk about the incident. About what happened. Sam. The black mold on the walls. Where she could have went. The boy that died.

Theres another thought laying I feel my own words weighing heavy on my tounge, and I feel if I hold them in any longer I'll never get them out.

"I ended up in the ER last summer." I blurt out. "I wasn't doing well either. My mom just got scared. People bullied me a lot last year. I just couldn't take it. I didn't know what to do so I tried to just…..disappear."

I can still remember. My mom pulling up my sleeve. Her expression shattering. I remember the two weeks spent in the hospital, the way I had cried at night because I didn't know what to do, I didn't know if I would ever be okay again.