*trigger warning*
Dearest,
I'm so sorry. I've cut again. I'm trying to stop, I fucking promise you. And I'm even thinking about telling you who I am because of it. Because I have no one to talk to, besides myself. And you are a lovely person, Brendon. You would help me right? You care. I know you do. Because that da-. Wait. I was about to basically tell you who I was. Not yet. I am broken. And out of hints to give you. I don't feel well anymore. For the love of god, I almost committed tonight.
I'm constantly tired, but I can't sleep. I'm hungry, but I can't eat. I'm bleeding, but I'm in love with that damned shiny piece of metal.
I might tell you tomorrow at school.
With Love,
~~~~ ~~~~
School
~~~~ ~~~~
Fuck. I forgot that today was an off-day. Or as I like to call them hell days. Today I have gym, math, and world history. I hate these days, mostly because of first period, which is gym. I am forced to change into shorts and a tee-shirt, but it's okay because I'm wearing a big-ass bracelet to cover up anything.
"Okay class, since you guys were awful last off-day, we will be using the dice," yells Coach Williams. "The dice" were huge dice that you would roll and there would be different exercises that you would to that corresponded to a number. Two and six were the worst ones to roll. Two was one lap, six was two laps. But the absolute worst part was that we had to work in groups of four.
The Coach put us in groups. Fuck. Why am I just now realizing that Brendon's in the class. Well isn't this just fabulous. Everyone in my group looks like they could lift three times my weight. Which would be approximately 261.9 pounds. Yeah, they could. With people like Zack Merrick and Rian Dawson-definitely.
"Okay," Rian says as he rolls the die. "We got a........three." I sigh. Thank you Jesus. But, on the downside we have to do ten pushups. And we roll five more times, but we haven't had to run yet.
We get finished with those and we roll again. Five. Fifteen jumping-jacks. When we finish those I'm already dying and if we run I might pass out. And if we do have to run, I am going to swear. The die is thrown and it bounces off the wall, landing on the six.
"Fuck me up," I say as it lands. Brendon looks at me weirdly. This could give away my letter identity. I mean with the whole being underweight thing. We all take off in a sprint around track. I figure as we're running I'll try to keep up with Brendon, but he's really fast so I have to push myself. I am gasping for breath as we finish lap one and everything is going hazy and I suddenly feel dizzy.
"Dammit," I say collapsing in a heap. Everything goes black and I can't see anything.
~~~~ ~~~~
Brendon
~~~~ ~~~~
"Fuck me up," Ryan says, confusing me. He probably just doesn't want to run. I get it. Who chooses to run? Not many people.
I take off in a sprint around the track, keeping up with the other guys in our group. I glance back as we finish lap one, and Ryan has slowed down. Weird.
But then I hear it.
"Dammit," he says, and I turn back to look.
Oh god.
I run over to him as fast as I can and yell at the top of my lungs.
"Coach! Come quickly please! Someone get him!" I sound desperate, but this isn't okay.
I look over towards where Coach Williams would be and he's jogging over.
"Wha- oh god. Um... you-."
"Me?" I ask.
"Uh-yes, you. Take him to the nurse please. And be careful, and get there quickly." I get up and hunch over, picking up Ryan's limp body.
"He's so light," I whisper to myself. Hmm. He couldn't be the one writing the letters. Could he?
Carrying him bridal style, I get a few weird looks in the hall. He's taller than me, so I have to be careful not to hit anybody with his legs.
"Ugh," I hear, I look down at Ryan's face. "What the hell? Why are you carrying me?" He asks.
"Shhh, shh. We're going to the nurse because you passed out. Okay? And I am going to keep carrying you because I don't need you passing out again." I answer. When I say the word nurse his face turns from neutral and sleepy, to an "oh shit no bitch" face. "What?"
"Oh-um-nothing." Yeah, sure.
We get to the nurse, and I am still carrying him. I walk through the office, through the small corridor, and on the left, there it is. I sit him down. I've never been here before. Until now. And with a very, very cute boy that just passed out. What're the odds?
The nurse, Mrs. Gunnulfsen, asks us what happened. And to my surprise Ryan answers most of the questions.
~~~~ ~~~~
Ryan
~~~~ ~~~~
"So basically, I started running. And I was pushing myself to keep up with the other guys, and I don't know." Mrs. Gunnulfsen, or Mrs. Gunn, nods.
"Oh, you, honey," Brendon looks up at the nurse. "You can go back to class."
He nods.
"Hey, thanks for bringing me," I say blushing. I half mean that thanks. I don't want to be here because she'll probably weigh me, and I don't want to hear what she has to say about my body.
Breathe, Ryan.
Brendon turns the corner and I can't see him anymore.
YOU ARE READING
Dearest~a Ryden
FanfictionRyan writes letters to keep him calm and to not think bad things. So he writes and he writes and he slips his letters through a locker, so he knows someone might read them. He pours his heart out in the letters and the paper is sometimes tear-staine...
