Don't Get Involved

Chapter Five

Quinn's POV
The next month went by. Dylan and I got closer, Kaya's awful words got worse. She's of course discovered a bunch of swear words that are now to her disposal. I've been trying to throw away anything sharp, but to no avail. The urge takes over before I do. The same thoughts as everyday run through my head. "Your worthless...leave already." "No one would care if you died." "There's always a reason Kaya bullies you." My mind always had a way to torture me. I always force myself to think about Dylan when these thoughts come.

Lunch. My only fear at school anymore. I don't want to eat. I've grown used to Kaya and her mockery. I'm to used to sticking the same pointer finger down my throat after school, releasing that days meals.

"You should eat something." Dylan's voice is laced with concern. "Your getting thinner. It's not a good thing." But it is.

"I'm just not that hungry." I try to always eat in front of Dylan, but hate it because I'm just going to rid myself of it later. Dylan sighs. "Let me see your arm." He finally lets out. He has done this before after I went a week without cutting. He expects old scars.

"Y-you r-really don't have t-to." I mutter my words, so he can barely hear me. He grabs my arm, pulling my sleeve up. "Quinn!" He scolds me, looking at about double the scars I had last time he saw. He hates you now, just like everyone else.

"Talk to me, Quinn. Please," Dylan looks at me with glossy eyes. "Everytime you cut yourself, you are going to put that number of cuts on my arm. Everytime." I look at him in horror, I could never hurt him. "I-I can't hurt you. You know I can't." I cry out. The Bell should ring anytime now, saving me.

Dylan's POV
She won't do it. That's the plan. "Than don't. Call me if you are about to. We can talk it out. I promise I will always answer."

"Promise? No one keeps a promise." I can't let her think like that. Some people she should be able to trust, like her parents. Wait, I've never asked or seen her parents. "I can come over after school actually. I personally want to see you throw away your knives." I can tell she doesn't want me there. She sighs and stays quiet. "The bell's about to ring, we should go."

*after school*
I wait for the call, or a text. I don't want to sound like a creep, so I didn't call he myself.

Quinn's POV
He can't come here. I... live by myself. Ever since my dad died in an 'accidental' murder, my mom left me to fend for myself. Gave me the apartment. No one can find out or I will have to go to a orphanage, and the closest one was never visited because the reason kids were dropped there was that they had mental problems. Creepy.

My finger hovered above the green call button. I pressed it. One ring. "Hey, Quinn." "Oh Hi. Um, I think I should just go to your house instead..." "No. Quinn, I need to see you throw them out." Dylan was persistent. I would like that in any other situation. "Okay." I give in. "Address?" I quickly give him my address and hang up.