Mended

29

**trigger warning**
self-harm

Ethan's POV

During the quietest hours of the night, I watched the burning flame flicker through the darkness of my car as I switched the match on and off. The clicking sound periodically resonated through the hollow silence around me, strangely resembling the sound the door had made when Izzy had slammed it shut after her.

Outside, I was vaguely aware of the quiet pitter-patter of the rain as it fell softly in the darkness, tapping against the roof of my car. My gaze followed a few drops of water as they slid down my windshield, before completely disappearing.

My thumb moved again, almost following a rhythm as I turned the match on again. And then off.

On. Off. Again.

The next time I hit the switch, the flame flickered dimmer than before, as if it was dying off. Aware of this, I did not risk turning it off because I knew that if I did, it wouldn't turn on again.

My arm felt like lead as I rested it on the center console, before I lifted the sleeve of my hoodie to reveal my tattooed forearms. The black ink covered almost every inch of skin, and no one had ever bothered to look close enough to realize that there was a reason why I'd chosen the designs I had.

My scars were few and fading even before I'd gotten the tattoos, but I never wanted them to be found anyways. It was a risk I'd never take.

The dying flame continued to dance in the darkness, the light barely holding on as I held it. Slowly, I brought the match down to my wrist. I barely flinched as it seared my skin like a brand, serving as a reminder that would follow me around for the rest of my life.

I only stopped and pulled it away when the fire died out, chucking it to the side somewhere. Pulling my sleeve down over the evidence burned onto my skin, I ignored the agony that lashed up my arm and started the engine.

Everywhere I looked during the drive there, I found something that made it too easy.

Sometimes, it was a tree towering over the side of the road. Other times, it was the headlights of another car driving towards me. The answer to everything was all around me, I realized. It would be so easy to—

I broke that train of thought and pulled to a slow stop outside of the small apartment complex that I'd somehow remembered the route to. My movements felt robotic as I pulled my keys out of the ignition and slipped out of the car.

Mariam answered the door after I knocked quietly, her expectant gaze finding mine. She didn't look surprised to see that I was at her doorstep considering I'd called before I'd come.

By some miracle, she'd been awake.

"Come in," she said softly, opening the door wide. In silence, I stepped inside, not bothering to look around as I waited for her to lead me in the right direction. "You can take a seat there."

I complied, moving over to the couch she'd gestured to. From the corner of my eye, I spotted her take a seat across from me, the weight of her knowing gaze making me shift uncomfortably.

"You're bleeding."

I looked up at her voice, noting the way her eyes zeroed in on my hand. Following her gaze, I saw that there was blood dripping down my hand; only a few drops, but visible nonetheless. Mentally cursing myself for not paying attention, I slipped my hands into the pockets of my hoodie, briefly shaking my head. "It's fine," I told her, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.