Street Rat

Chapter One: Part 6

Once again my eyes slowly creep themselves open, but this time it's more dim outside. The sun is hiding from me again. Because it's close to night probably, either that or it's already the evening. I don't know, but I noticed I'm no longer wrapped around Blake. Did he leave? I he might've. Hell I would've if I noticed an awful piece of shit mess next to me. I hear muffled noises from the bathroom. Not the sound of water running, or dripping. A muffled noise. I get up and stretch out my arms and legs. I flinch as I try to crack my back then remembering I have a big ass scar on my back that's still developing. I place my bare feet onto the velvet carpet, it's soft but rough. Rough enough to grab onto for balance support, soft enough to make my feet comfortable and walk. I shuffle to the mirror to see myself. I look awful. I lift my arm sleeves up to look at my arm. 1....2.....5...I count my scars. I like to do that to keep track of how many are gone or are just new. I had 67 the last time I counted. Now that I've recounted, I have 61, which means some healed or faded. I needed to make more. I just needed a reason or more. I walk over to my bag to find the pocket knife, I can't seem to find it. Then I temember that Blake used it to cut my shirt. I think he put it on the table with the lamp on it. I turn around, it's not there. I start to panic. I pulled the sheets and blanket off of the bed, rip up my bag to double check if it was there. It wasn't. I then look in the drawers, not there either. I sit on the bed and hold my hair. I begin to suck in my cheeks making an almost fishy face. I tend to do that a lot. Especially when I'm frustrated. I think to when Blake put it down. Did he even put it down? Where is it? What the hell!

"Hey! Morning Rebel! How'd you sleep?" I hear Blake from behind me. I turn around and notice he's shirtless wiping his hair and face with a light green towel. He has what looks like a scar on his hip and one on his rib. He turns around to get a shirt from his bag and I notice bleeding scratch marks vertically going across hi upper and lower back. How did he get those? I panic even more and stand up. I walk to him, he's still bent over getting a shirt. I trace my fingers over the cuts on his back. I think I scared him, because when I touched one he flinched at the touch.
"Sorry." I apologize. He stands up taller and I'm still feeling the cuts trying to figure out how he got them. They feel new. They are new! One of the cuts bled onto my pinky and middle finger. I look at my fingers horrified. I wipe my fingers and gently spin him around so he's facing me. I look at him the his eyes. Man those eyes...
"How did you get these cuts on your back?" I asked worried.
"Why do you think I asked how you slept?" He simply says to me. I give a puzzled look. I'm confused.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well...while you were asleep, you may had been having a nightmare. You kept whimpering and crying. When I tried to let go of you to wake you up, you grabbed onto me tighter and started scratching at my back. You didn't stop for 8 minutes. I then finally moved, and tried to wake you up. You didn't respond so I left you be and went into the shower to clean the blood off of my back." He tells me. I begin to feel guilty. I scratched him up while I was asleep. I'm a horrible person...
"I'm sorry dude." I say. "I don't remember my dream, but I'm really really sorry." I say sincerely. I didn't want to hurt him. I don't want to hurt him. But doing things like cuddling could lead to .....other things.
"Its okay, I got most of it off so I'm good." He says a big smile on his face while putting his Blue button up on. I decided not to ask about the scars because that story is saved for later clearly.

We grab our bags and leap out of the window of Chepport and walk down the fire escape. I can actually walk now. So I was able to walk at a nice pace just fast enough without dying. We make it to the bottom and he speaks.
"Let's exchange numbers." He has a huge smile on his face. His eyes match the smile.
"What? Why?" I asked softly.
"Because I can hang with you, talk to you, catch up. You know?" He take out his phone. I hesitantly give him mine. We exchange the numbers, then as we go our separate ways he attacks me from the back with a hug. I just stay still as I don't know what to do but stand. He lets go and leaves.
"See you later Reb!"
I turn around and smile. I shyly wave waiting for him to turn the corner. I turn my head around and look at the ground. I lost my knife that means a lot to me. I lost my ability to keep my wall up. Now I'm going to lose Blake again.

Why did I have to save him?

Why didn't I just leave him alone?

Why am I still alive?