Please Just Let Me Stay

Chapter 3

After talking for a while longer, Tre decided to head home for the night.

"Billie, are you sure you'll be alright for the night?" He had asked me.

"Yeah, yeah Tre I'll be fine. Don't worry about me." I tried to reassure him.

"Okay, but Billie... if you even begin to get the urge to cut... call me, alright?" He seemed uneasy as he talked. Tre had been running his hands through his hair and stuttering due to nerves for leaving me alone. And that made me feel even worse.

"Don't worry about me." I said firmly once again.

He just gave me a tight smile and I had followed him out the door to his car.

"Bye, Billie Joe."

"Bye, Tre. And uh- y'know... I love you, y'know..."

Shit. Even I could hear the awkwardness in my words.

"I love you, too."

I had watched him drive down the long driveway and through the gate before I walked back inside. My eyes still burn a little from the tears, and my wrist still feels raw from when Tre grabbed me.

I must have made him feel so bad for hurting me and even worse after seeing what I had done. Does he even love me? Or maybe he just felt pressured to say it.

I could feel my eyes start to water once again and my head spun.

Tre had been gone no longer than twenty minutes and I already needed to call him. I needed him to stop me from doing what I was thinking of doing. But I can't bother him. Then he'll leave me, leave the band, Mike will get pissed, Jason too, and my entire life will fall apart.

Okay, Billie. You're going on a bit of a slippery slope there. Just take slow, easy breaths. It'll be alright.

As an effort to calm down, I walked back over to the couch and turned on the TV. Some Lifetime movie began playing, which instantly made me think of Tré once again. He loves these cheesy, two hour films full of drama and emotion wrecking quality.

He probably had turned the channel on the television sometime during the day, and I was too upset to notice.

I pulled up the blanket that was jumbled in a heap on the leather couch. The soft material was long enough to go up to my chin, and still cover my entire body.

I pulled it up to my nose, and once again I thought of Tré. This blanket had his smell seemingly worked into the threads.

I wonder if he'll ever come back. Maybe he was just trying to be nice... He probably doesn't even love me. I just burdened him with my issues and he had no other choice but to comfort me. Tre is too nice of a guy to walk out on someone.

My eyes darted over to the iPhone placed on one of the end tables. I need him. I know I'm thinking crazy thoughts, which will inevitably lead me to doing crazy things.

But what if he's with Mike. Or Jason. And they're hanging out, having a fun time. He'd see your call and have no other choice but to answer. Then he'd hate you for ruining his day and dread ever coming over in the first place.

My stomach started feeling nauseous. The blanket fell to my feet as I rose on shaky legs. My pace quickened as I made my way up the stairs and into the bathroom connected to my bedroom.

I felt the need to throw up, but nothing was really there to come up. I began to run some cold water from the sink and splashed it against my face.

Stop it, Billie. Your mind is playing tricks on itself again.

Maybe my mind is just speaking the truth.

I sat on the edge of the bathtub as I continued to mentally argue with myself. Tears were running down my face, and my hands knotted their way into my hair.

I need help, and I need it fucking bad. I need Tre. I need Tre. I need Tre.

The only thing my mind could think was, "I need Tre." Over and over and over again.

I rolled my sleeve up, and picked the blade up off the bathroom counter. You can probably guess what I did next.

I can't figure out why I do this. I know it doesn't help, but when I get to these low points it feels like the only thing I can do to get myself up. It provides mental clarity, which sounds very odd, but is true.

The cuts I made weren't the worst, but we're still pretty bad. I wrapped my arm in the roll of bandages in the drawer.

I walked back downstairs in a daze, and the only thing that shook me out was when I saw my phone light up.

Five missed calls from Tre.
Damn.

So I picked up the phone and dialed his number, and within two rings he picked up.

"Billie, why didn't you answer?"
"I was upstairs and my phone was still in the living room."
"Billie Joe, why is your voice shaky?"
"It's not..."
As I said it, even I could hear the shakiness dripping off my vocals.
"I should've never left, and I'm on my way back over to make up for it. I'll be there in two."
Click.

By the time Tre got there, I was hunched over in a little ball next to the couch, rocking back and forth.

I could hear his footsteps walk to me after opening the front door. He was getting closer and closer.
Then he was here, kneeling down next to me.

"Billie Joe?" He whispered.

His arms wrapped around me and pulled me into him on the floor. I was wearing short sleeves, so the tight bandages wrapped around both my arms were no secret. I didn't care, because I knew he'd find out eventually anyways.

Tre's fingers ghosted against my arms and he drew in a sharp intake of breath.

"Why didn't you call?"

The tears started falling and my head was shaking from side to side and I mumbled "I don't know."

"Billie Joe, you should've called me."

"I know Tre, I know."