Abby’s Point of View
The guys were just starting their set about now; it is eleven in the morning, I have no idea what city we are in and I don’t really care either. I feel like shit today, that’s why I’m not going to the shows. It’s been three days since Oli told me he loved me and neither of us has used that word since then. Oh well, what are you going to do? I have a few hours before the guys get back because they are doing a signing after their set today; might as well draw. I haven’t drawn in a while because I don’t always have the time, but now I have time to kill. I pulled out my sketch book and pencils; I’m the only one on the bus so I plugged my iPod into the doc and blasted “The Price of Beauty” by Suicide Silence. “Holding you down by your throat, just enough to keep your fucking mouth shut. Can't stand to hear you scream god, because he's not fucking here bitch” I began to quietly sing along with the song. I began to sketch something random, I didn’t really have a plan of what to draw; but then again, I never have a plan. About twenty minutes later I looked at my drawing and I guess I was pleased; I mean that’s always been my biggest fear and biggest dream. To die. I don’t want to die, but I do; does that make sense? Like I have a fear of dying but I’m suicidal and depressed. This is what I get for not taking my medication anymore. I cut all the time and I down pills just to sleep and possibly overdose. That’s how fucked up I am; most girls would kill to be in my spot, well I’m killing myself fin my spot. I know I’m not what Oli wants, and I know eventually he’ll grow bored with me and toss me away like last week’s trash. And I’m dreading that day; I don’t want to lose the first person I’ve actually loved. I don’t know what I had with Mason, but it wasn’t anything like what I have with Oli. At least, I think I have something with Oli; I know he said that he loves me, but do I really believe it? I know how many girlfriends he has gone through over the years, am I just another one of those disposable girls? Oh, and I haven’t been eating a lot, well I usually don’t eat a lot to begin with because of my eating disorder; but I’ve been eating even less than usual. Oli is now always surrounded by so many pretty and thin girls; I just wished I looked like them. They don’t wear a line of makeup and look flawless. The image I had drawn was a little girl on a swing and next to her, hanging from those gymnast rings, was a little boy who was hung there. I know it's creepy, but oh well.
My phone buzzed and I looked down at the screen, it was a new text from Oli. “On our way back to the bus with lunch, Love. We will be there in five. ~Oli” once I read it I ran and put my sketchbook and pencils away and took my iPod off of the doc. I heard the front door swing open and in walked the five guys; Oli came in last. They set down a bunch of brown bags on the counter; I guess they went out shopping. Lee began putting drinks into the fridge and Matt K was putting food into this little pull out shelf. Oli handed me a turkey sub with pickles and tomatoes on it; Matt must have ordered mine because it’s my favorite. “How in the world are you wearing long sleeves it’s almost one-hundred degrees outside?!” Curtis asked me and I just shrugged. “I don’t feel good, I guesses.” I mumbled. I wasn’t even half way through my sub when I got up and ran into our tiny bathroom; I got there just in time to empty the contents of stomach into the toilet. My brother was standing behind me trying to console me; he kept saying how it’s just a stomach bug and it’ll be gone by morning, he has no fucking idea what it is. If he really knew, he would’ve sent me home or something crazy like that. I just nodded and pushed by him after I rinsed out my mouth.
I walked back to my bunk area and sat down on the floor. I didn’t want to cry, I’m tired of that being what I always do when I’m upset. It’s fricking childish and quite annoying to be honest. I blinked a few times to clear the tears away and I heard a soft knock at the door; I didn’t need to answer it, I knew who it was. It was Oli coming to see if I needed anything or if I feel okay. He opened the door and then shut it behind him again he sat down across from me and just staying silent for a minute before he moved a little closer to me. “Roll your sleeves up.” He said quietly. “What? Why?” I asked trying not to panic. “Let me see your wrists.” He asked and I started to stand up and he grabbed my hands and looked at my arms which my sleeves were covering. “Please.” He whispered. I sat back down across from him and pushed my sleeves up and I didn’t even want to look at his face but I couldn’t help it. His eyes went wide and I think I saw a few tears in his eyes. “Abby, why did you do this to yourself?” he asked while looking over my arms that were covered in fresh and old cuts, he was still holding my hands though so I guess walking away wasn’t an option at the moment. He looked up and his eyes met mine I didn’t know how to answer him so I just shrugged and he cocked his head at me. “I don’t feel good enough for you, Oli. There are all of those skinny and pretty girls at all of your shows and you see them more than you see me so I just figured…” I began and Oli cut me off. “Abby, what other pretty girls? All I see are people coming out to listen to my music. The only pretty girl I ever see there is you when you come to our shows. Those other people are just fans to me, I don’t think of them in any other way.” He said and kissed my scars. I felt tears form in my eyes. “Oli, if you ever want to leave, just go, it’s easier without the drama I can cause. You guys are trying to finish your record and have to focus on that; not on me.” I said and he just shook his head. “There is nothing more important to me than you, Abby. You and your well-being; if you’re not feeling good than it makes me feel like shit too because there’s always something I could be doing to help you.” He said and the tears began to fall from my eyes, but his tears remained in his eyes; he doesn’t cry in front of me. He moved next to me and wrapped his arms around me. “Please, for me, please stop that. I cannot lose you.” He said and kissed the top of my head again. I smiled; I did feel like some part of him wanted me in his life. “Who can like a girl with cuts?” I said through tears. “I don’t know; but I can always love a girl with battle scars.” Oli said and he took his arms from around me and rolled up his sleeves; his were faded, but they were there. “Oli…” I began to ask why he had those. “School, I was bullied and I saw self harm as an escape; but now I realize it never was the answer, and it never will be.” He said and I kissed his cheek, “They’re battle scars, Love.” He said and kissed me.
