Internet Friend (M.C)

s e v e n

** depressing chapter btw guys sorry

Michael takes me out for ice cream. He gets a cone filled with all these disgusting kinds of ice cream that don't go well together.

"Boooooring." he says of my cookie dough with chocolate sprinkles. I just stick my tongue out at him, taking a bite.

"At least I didn't get just a water at Starbucks." I shoot back, giggling.

He rolls his eyes, walking down the sidewalk. "So, like I said, I leave in 2 days."

I nod, taking another bite. "Yeah."

"And I wanna keep talking."

I blush. "Yeah..."

He shrugs, crunching on the last piece of his cone. He ate that fast.

"Can I just.. ask you a question?"

"'Course. Shoot."

"Well... when you were showing me the scars from when that asshole hurt you.. I saw some other scars.. and then on your wrist when you didn't have the flannel on yet.. uh.. could I ask what those were?"

I sigh, gripping tighter onto Tally's leash.

"I guess. Ok.. Well, I told you that Kaleb was abusive. He called me fat and ugly and useless, and told me that no one wanted me and that I wasn't pretty. I, uh.. I took those things to heart.. I tried talking to Emma but she told me to just ignore him.. my mum isn't usually around all that much so I couldn't talk to her.. so I, uh.. yeah. It got really bad. After one of the really bad accidents with Kaleb, he uh, crashed his car with me in it and my brother was in the backseat and it killed him.. I kind of shut down for a little over a year, I've only just started getting better."

Michael has stopped walking. He's staring at me, a weird glint in his eye.

"You're beautiful," he whispers. "That asshole."

I shrug, finishing my ice cream. "I'm okay now..."

"No, you're not."

I sigh.

"No. I'm not. But that's okay. I'm fine. I'll be fine."

He wraps his arms around me, pressing my tightly to his chest and breathing in deeply.

"I am so, so sorry."

"It's not your fault. You don't have to apologize for anything." I mumble into his chest.

"I'm sorry for what he did to you. No one should go through that. I'm so sorry about your brother. Were you guys close?"

"Yeah. Really close."

"Oh.."

"Could we uh.. change the subject? It's not exactly my favorite.."

"Right, of course. I'm sorry."

I shrug, walking quietly.

"..Be truthful, yeah? ..When was the last time you did it?" he breaks the silence, looking anxious.

I hesitate. "You can't tell Emma."

"I promise."

"2 days ago."

He grabs my arm, pulling me close, and rolls up the sleeve.

There they are.

Still red.

6 little gashes, neatly lined up on my wrist.

"Sydney."

"Yes?"

"Why?"

"There's no escape, Michael."

"No escape from what?"

"Everything. The depression. Losing him. The feeling that I'm useless, and that no one wants me. That hopeless feeling that nothing's going to be okay, ever again."

He pulls me in for yet another hug, his chin resting on the top of my head.

"I want to help you."

I laugh, but it's not a laugh. There's no feeling in that laugh, no emotion. "I'm past help, Michael. It's too late for that."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

why can't this happen to me, yeah??

it's legit so nice out in maine today, it's like 60 degrees and all the snow is melting (we have 3 and a half feet) and the sun is out and the sky is blue and i just wanna go to the park and take artsy pics but my grandparents are over so i'm not allowed to leave

ugh

xoxo