Don't Go (originally by @nadiluvswriting)

Hey everyone! So, as some of you may know, I recently took over this story, so all credit for the first three chapters and the characters mentioned in them goes to nadiluvswriting (I just did some editing and made the chapters a little longer). Anyways . . . I really hope you guys enjoy it :)

One more thing!  Since all I have to do with the first few chapters is edit, I can get those up pretty fast, but I do have other stories.  That means my updates might not be as quick as everyone would like, but I'll still do the best I can.

Ch 1

I stretched out a pale hand, reaching for the blade that had helped relieve my suffering so many times before. Bringing it to my wrist without the slightest hesitation, I made several thin cuts to match the countless scars already on my arm, and I felt that familiar sense of release wash over me. Once I felt the blood trickling down my ruined arm, I dropped the razor. Sinking to my knees on the bathroom floor, I watched as it clattered to the ground, spraying tiny drops of red against the clean, white tile. Staring at the sharp contrast in colors, I could not help but thin, 'Tainted. Just like me.'

Suddenly, the door swung open, and I turned my head as it crashed against the wall, not caring who was unfortunate enough to see me in this condition. But when I looked up and saw Jayme standing in the doorway, I felt much relief knowing that it was not someone who would spread my dirty little secret. As my best friend, Jayme was the only person alive who had actually taken the time to attempt to understand my pain. She also knew how I chose to deal with life, but that did not mean that she had ever agreed with what I did.

"Casey," she said quietly, disapproval and hurt evident in her expression, "not this again. You can't keep doing this to yourself after you promised me that you wouldn't."

Jayme crossed the room to where I sat on the floor, propped up against the bathtub, and gently took my arm, examining the fresh cuts. Her chocolate brown eyes met mine for a fraction of a second before she averted her gaze and stood. Silently, Jayme walked back to the sink, dropping my arm as she went and picking up a brown wash cloth. After dampening it, she returned to me and bent down, pressing the cloth lightly against my skin.

As she worked, I watched her through my drooping eyelids.  I noticed the distance in her eyes, and the pain that she tried so hard to hide from me was unmistakable.  Her slightly messy golden hair fell to her shoulders in elegant curls, framing her lightly tanned face, which had freckles splattered across the cheeks and nose.  The top of her head was covered by a pink and black beanie hat, and I absentmindedly took in the sight of her black tank top and pink throw.  Her long legs were covered with black skinny jeans, her feet adorned with pink converse.

 Looking at her as I was lying in an emotional mess on the floor, it was impossible for me not to be jealous of her.  Jayme literally had it all.  Her natural beauty attracted a great deal of attention from the boys at our school, who all but fell down on their hands and knees to worship her.  Everyone wanted to be close to her, and she was always the center of attention, especially in her own family.  Being an only child, Jayme could ask her parents for anything she wanted, and they would always bend over backwards just to please her.  I suppose it helped that she belonged to one of the wealthiest families in the state.  With an endless supply of money and the face to match it, the world was at the manicured tips of her fingers. 

Why couldn't I just be like Jayme?

"What are you doing here, Jay?" I heard myself ask her.

"We have a project to finish by the end of the week," she answered simply, sounding far off, bored, distant.  Then her voice turned sharp as she asked, "Why do you do this to yourself, Casey?"