TRIGGER WARNING: Themes of Self-Injury
"D-Drew..." A timid whimper sounded through the phone as I groggily held it to my ear. I jumped alert as I processed his cries while in my previous exhausted state.
It was 3am, unusual for a phone call and extremely unusual when the said phone gleamed the name 'Shane' into my squinting eyes.
"Shane?" I yawned, questioning why my fellow timid rudely awoke me at what I call an inhumane time of the morning.
"D-Drew... I-I’m sorry-I just-" He cut himself off shortly after, allowing himself off to release a stammering cry. I was beginning to get worried; Shane was usually calm and collected. He'd always kept his emotions in check, never once letting out a whimper let alone allowing himself to sob down a mobile to someone.
"Shane? Is everything alright?" I asked cautiously, yet inferior.
"I-I think- I - no." He replied shakily, in obvious battle whether he should confide in me. He continued to cry, no amount of 'shh' -ing seemed to help, in honesty I was still baffled that this was happening right now, I've never, in the amount of time I knew Shane, ever seen him like this. It terrified me.
"Shane, it's okay. I'm here for you but to help you, you have to tell me what's wrong." I decided to speak calm and soft, if I was shouting or demanding he told me his problem I'd never get anywhere with him.
"I - I've done something stupid, D-Drew. R-Really, really stupid." I heard his voice crack through the phone, it was as if he was trying to compose himself and become same old emotionally stable Shane, except he couldn't and soon broke down once more.
"Shane sweetie, you're scaring me." I said honestly. Shane was never like this, something bad must have happened. Different scenarios began to play out in my mind, each equally horrifying and heartbreaking, except none of which mentally prepared me for Shane's reply.
"I-I’m sorry, Drew. I don't mean to- it's just-" I heard a sigh and a sniffle before he continued, leaving me to anxiously wait silently on the other end, staring out at the wall at the end of my bed. "I-I've hurt myself, l-like I-intentionally a-and I-" He let out a shaky breath once more. "D-Drew I just don't know what to do. I-I need you." I took a loud intake of breath, not daring once to speak. Shane's confession struck a large core with me, and my mouth began alarmingly dry yet I didn't dare dampen the surface of my lips. He hurt himself on purpose. Shane -my best friend - hurt himself, and I wasn't there.
"D-Drew?" His quiet, broken voice sounded the eerie room. "A-Are you there?"
I snapped out of my dazed state at the sound of his hurt voice. “Yes, Shane. It’s okay, I’m here.”
“I-I d-don’t know what to do, I-I”
Something clicked inside me and I knew what to do. Shane was hurt and needed my protection. “Are you bleeding now?”
“Y-Yes, o-only slightly.”
“Apply pressure to it, I’m on my way.”
I began to get out of bed and shove a pair of jeans that I dumped on the floor earlier when Shane’s voice erupted through the phone once more.
“N-No! Drew, you don’t need to do that! I-“
“Shane, stop. It’s okay; I just want to make sure you’re alright.”
I heard a deep sigh and another sniffle. “T-Thank you, Drew.”
I smiled slightly at how innocent and kind Shane was. “It’s fine. Do what I said; I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”
I ended the call soon after and began to hurry around my house, getting dressed, brushing my hair, and trying to find my house keys which were hiding from me, turns out they were already in the door. The trip to Shane’s house was a quick one, he only lived a few streets away from me and I got there quickly due to my swift running. I reached Shane’s door within minutes and frantically began to knock until the door eventually opened, the sight hitching a breath in my throat. Shane looked terrible. His hair wasn’t perfectly placed or in shape, his lips drooped low into a frown and his eyes were filled with sorrow. They were bloodshot, surrounded by a heavy layer of damp and raw red, protected by his infamous glasses. It was heartbreaking.
