Hold Onto Me (Koli/Kellic) (EDITING)

Chapter 16

A/N: Okay this is a short chapter. Kind of a filler? The next one should be longer. Anyway, enjoy the chaper :) xx

FRIDAY

Everything is perfect, at least at the moment, but nothing stays that way forever.

Things change and I know it. I know it, and I hate it.

He kisses me like I am perfection. I am the delicate flower that he can't wait to destroy.

He'll destroy me, but not in the bad way.

Destruction; the kind I will love.

Oliver will take care of me. He will hold me, and keep me safe.

He is the best person I know. He cares about me in the way no one else ever has.

To him, I am a gem, and he will protect me with his life, keep me from harm.

A gem with scratches, with imperfections, with flaws, it no longer holds the value it once did.

Tainted, that's what it is.

He can protect me from physical danger, but he can't save me from the demons in my head, the darkest, coldest parts of my mind.

He can't heal me. He is not superhuman.

His love, his love makes me feel warm, wanted, and important. It makes me happy for what must be the first time in years.

But it does not make me okay

Contrary to belief, love does not fix everything.

Not even me.

I believe him now when he says he won't leave. Mostly.

He'll stay, he's certain, and I want to be too.

But I can't.

There are years of trust issues, of betrayal, and one promise, no matter how much he means it, can't change all that.

Doubts. Uncertainties.

But no matter what, he's my hope.

I said it months ago, back when I'd just met him, when all I knew was his name. I didn't know what he would become, what we would become. I didn't understand the importance, the impact he would have on my life. But even then, he was my hope.

Then I fell in love with him, and he was still my hope. Even though I didn't believe he loved me, he still meant everything.

Now. I'm in love with him, and he loves me too. He adores me, and he is my hope.

He's my hope for a brighter future.

Hope for life.

For love.

To live.

But hope fades. It fades, and it comes and goes in bouts. Right now, all hope is gone, lost, and so am I.

It's nearly midnight.

I didn't go to school today. I couldn't, wouldn't. I woke up and my mind was a mess, scattered about.

Just like hope, depression comes and goes.

It's always there. It's permanent. But at times I feel I will be alright, that I will find a purpose to live, like life...everything, will be okay.

Today is not one of those days.

When I woke, my head was aching like a bitch. A migraine, that's what it was.

I texted Oliver.

'Not coming today' I sent.

He sent me many texts, worried, asking why, if I was okay, but I ignored every single one of them.

I get so disconnected.

I break off the edge of the world, it seems. Sometimes  I need space, I need to be alone. I need silence. I need to be left alone with my thoughts. They consume me.

Sometimes I can't talk about it, because it hurts too much. Oliver, he understands how I feel better than anyone, but I think it's different with everyone and even he doesn't truly understand.

I block people out. Maybe it's not good, not healthy, but it's what I do, and have done forever, and will continue to do in the future.

I'm a mess.

Oliver is probably worried sick about me right now, and here I am, sitting on the edge of the cliff I attempted to jump from once again.

My legs dangle off the edge.

It's cold. So damn cold. Snowflakes fall down on me, melting upon contact with my skin.

It's cold, but I'm sort of immune to it.

I roll my sleeve up, blade clenched tightly in my fist.

The water below me crashes and spills together viciously. Rough, and violent. Just like me.

My scars, they are beautiful.

No, they're not. They're hideous, and each time I look at them, I am reminded of what a monster I am. A psychopath who carves into his own skin.

But, just as they are ugly, they are also undeniably beautiful.

The scars, lines, they are beautiful in my sick, twisted, mess of a mind.

Beautiful.

And the only logical choice is to make more.

Right?

Right.

I brush the blade over my skin lightly. Then I do it harder, with intent, and the skin breaks.

Blood seeps up to the surface of my skin.

I make another.

And another.

I make more and more until I lose count, until I've done over a dozen.

There's so much blood. I've cut a lot in my life, but for some reason, I seem to be bleeding more this time.

I don't think I've ever done this many cuts at one time before.

It's so fucking ugly.

Frustration consumes me and the urge to throw myself off this cliff is stronger than anything I've ever felt before. Stronger than the love I have for Oliver.

I could get it over with...

So easy. It would be so easy.

I could get it over with. Chances are I'd die at the impact of hitting my head on the rocks below at the shore.

But no.

I make a few more, watch the blood drip down my wrist, falling on my jeans.

Good thing they're black.

Not tonight.

Tonight isn't the night. There's something holding me back, saying no. This isn't the right time.

But maybe soon it will be.