Soul Mates (Drevi)

Hello There

"Oh, what a waste of a perfectly good, clean wrist."
-"Disasterology," Pierce The Veil

Drew
     It's hard to say who started it first. I'd say it was my soul mate but I'm pretty sure it was me because I never saw marks on my body until I started making them. You never forget the first time you made yourself bleed. It was in middle school and I hated myself for never being able to focus on anything other than music. I was twelve then, and I grabbed a staple out of a stapler, bent it, and scratched myself till I saw red dripping down my arm. By the time I finished, I had about ten cuts on my wrist, and as bad as it sounds I loved every single one of them. I loved everything about hurting myself. The initial pain, the numbness, and the warmth I felt afterwards made me feel alive, and now here I am four years later. A senior in high school. Nothing's changed. Congrats, Drew, you're everything you never wanted to be.
I remember how sad I was that night when I saw the cuts on my right wrist because I knew that they weren't mine. I had specifically left that wrist bare so I'd have something to compare my other one to. Something clean to show I was ok and something to show my friends and family when they asked if I had given it up yet. Bracelets cover up a lot of things. Lies cover up more. Seeing is believing, I thought bitterly. I was mad when I saw my other wrist filling up with deep, angry red cuts haphazardly strewn about in all different directions because I knew it was my fault. I was the the one who introduced them to self harm; it was me. I started this, but now I was going to end it.
Before I left for school that morning I got an idea, so I grabbed a blade from my dresser drawer where it was hidden under a pair of socks. I took a second to think about what I was doing. It wasn't even eight yet; nothing bad had happened yet to make me want to hurt myself. But I had another reason, and it dated back to the day I saw cuts appear on the clean wrist I'd never touched before. I have a soul mate... And that was the one thought circulating through my head as I made my decision.
Pulling down the sleeve of my flannel, I slowly moved my bracelets out of the way. I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of this sooner. I placed the metal to my wrist and pressed down slightly, carefully writing a message in blood that was sure to leave a nasty scar. It was a cry for help to the one person who I hoped would love me as much as I loved them. The one person who I cared about more than anyone else in the world. The one who was there for me when no one else was. I have a soul mate, I thought again as I finished up and put the blade back where I found it.
I didn't wipe the blood off right away. Instead, I just stared at it. The letters were a little crooked but I knew they'd get the message. Smiling sadistically, I dabbed at my wrist with a tissue. Maybe now they'll get it. They're not alone. I know they exist... And I can help them. Written in cuts was the first thing I wanted my soulmate to know about me. Skipping the "hello," I simply introduced myself.

DREW

I waited for a reply.

Levi
They definitely started it. I had never even thought about self harm until the cuts started appearing. I was in seventh grade and doing homework in my room when I saw red marks showing up on my left wrist. They weren't deep at all, but I was confused. What's going on? Who's doing this? And then everything clicked. I'd heard of stories about soul mates but I could've never imagined I had one; the idea was just too crazy. I have a soul mate echoed in my head over and over again.
     I gently ran my fingers over the cuts. They didn't hurt, but I knew my soul mate felt the pain. Why are they doing this? What's wrong with them? I wanted to find out, and I didn't get my answer until I started cutting too. I didn't understand why inflicting pain upon yourself could be so easy and satisfying until I was actually doing it. It just felt so right and it looked so right. But it was wrong and I knew it... I just couldn't stop.
     Two years after I realized I had a soul mate, I had a really bad day, and just like that I remembered my soul mate's go to vice when things got bad. I grabbed my shaving razor and snapped it, pulling the blade out from where it belonged with plans to give it another purpose. Levi, think about what you're doing. Self harm isn't the answer.... But it could be. I held the blade against my right wrist since the left one was already littered with scars that weren't mine, pain that wasn't mine, and stories that weren't mine. But these cuts would be mine, and suddenly my first kiss was metal to wrist. Self harm became my answer for anything and everything, and I hated myself for it.
     Flash forward three years later, and here I was in LA with Austin to join a band and make some music. I played bass and Austin played rhythm guitar, but we still needed a drummer and a lead guitarist. We'd get them in time, but until then we were stuck waiting. I was doing just that when I realized my soul mate was awake and upset about something. I pulled down my bracelets to see what they were up to.

D... R... E... W... Drew??

     It took me a second to understand what they were saying but I finally got it. I ran into the bathroom of my shared apartment with Austin and grabbed my blade from the shower where I had left it. I quickly took off the bracelets on my other arm and searched for empty space. I'm here for you, Drew. I always have been just like you've always been there for me. I cleaned myself up and headed back to bed. Not even bothering to put my bracelets back on, I checked out my handiwork.

LEVI

Maybe now they would love me back.