Short Stories

Partners in Pain

🚩⚠️TRIGGER WARNING!!!! This story contains explicit and graphic content about self harm and suicide. PLEASE do not read if you struggle with depression or self harm. This is FICTION. Nothing in this story is either true or based on real events. ⚠️🚩

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Do you wanna know what my favorite type of weather is?

Honestly, it can be any time of the year, as long as it's raining I'll be happy.

When I was young and in school, I made many mistakes. Stories I carry with me to this day, some of them I can't seem to get rid of. But the one I'll keep a secret forever is Mia Anderson.

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- I'll never know how she does it, how she can be so perfect without even trying.

I said to Dylan, my best friend. We were standing by the edge of the soccer field because he wanted to look at Mia, the girl he liked.

- Man,

He said while looking at me as he grabbed my shoulders.

-I saw her first.

To be honest, I didn't like her the same way Dylan did, I just admired her. I could never understand how she could always just be... perfect. She's beautiful, she gets the best grades, she is loved by everyone, and her family is one of those you only see in movies, so harmonious.

She used to sit in the very front row of the class, I on the other hand was always in the back, as close to a window as possible because I wanted to hear and see the rain, in case there was any.

Our history class was particularly boring that day, I found myself staring out the window, longing for the winter.

I could hear Mia yet again participating in class as the perfect little bitch she always seemed to be. My admiration for her had slowly turned into jealousy and my jealousy into anger.

I couldn't help but think about how much I wished we could swap lives. I was a rebel with a cause, even if I never knew what it was. She was an angel with a halo.

If I'm honest, I didn't have a hard life, my parents were together in a good marriage, my family was never privileged but we lived comfortably, I didn't do that bad in school either, and even with that life, I ended up starting to cut myself by the time I was 13 years old, I am now 21 and I haven't stopped, all because of her.

Our last class of the day was PE. I hated it, it was really hot outside and I just couldn't take off my jacket because then people would see my wounds and scars. By the end of the class, our professor asked Mia and I to put away all of the equipment that was used that day.

"I can't possibly be this lucky" I thought sarcastically.

We both kept to ourselves, but when we were finishing up and walking out of the storage room, I tripped over my backpack and Mia tried to stop my fall grabbing me by the arm. Of course I grunted in pain, she had touched fresh wounds from the night before.

I just didn't want to deal with the interrogation that I knew would come next so I tried to walk away as soon as I stood up, but she stood infront of me, not allowing me to go.

- Evan, what happened to you? Did you hurt your arm in class or something?

She asked after stoping me from walking around her to get out. Her tone of voice surprised me, she sounded suspicious, hurt, as if she had been wounded.