With You [Sequel to Alone]

0.2

*FRESHMAN YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL*

I had just been bullied by a few girls because of the clothes I wear. The average day in my life. Today had been a little worse than usual. I had bruises all over my stomach from when they were kicking me. I ran into the bathroom, sobbing my eyes out. I went to the one on the 3rd floor, which no one went to because it was super old. I cried silently in the corner, hugging my knees as I dug in my purse, finding one of my only saviors throughout the rough times. My blade. It was a sharp razor blade that I had found in my Dad's drawer. I pulled up my sleeves, staring at the blurry scars that scattered across my vulnerable skin. I deserved this... Just as I made the first cut, I felt a hand wrap around my wrist.

V: "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING??!!! OH MY GOD WE NEED TO GET YOU TO THE NURSE'S OFFICE!!!"- I tried to resist, but he picked me up and carried me downstairs, going fast so I wouldn't bleed more than I already was. No matter how hard I tried to tell him it was okay, he wouldn't listen. I could barely speak, and I felt like I was going to black out.

He brought me to the nurse's office, just as the dizziness hit me. I collapsed onto the bed, and didn't wake up for hours. As soon as I opened my eyes I felt the blaring pain all over my body, especially my stomach. I felt someone holding my hand, so I looked beside me and saw that boy from earlier. Since my vision was less blurry, I could see his face more clearly. He was sleeping in the chair next to the bed, tears had stained his face, and his hand was holding mine. I don't know why he cared so much, but it was the most anyone had ever done. I felt special. No, I felt loved. I could see his eyes opening and focusing on me, who had been staring at him.

V: "OH THANK GOD YOU'RE AWAKE! ARE YOU OKAY? WHAT'S YOUR NAME? DO YOU NEED MEDICAL ASSISTANCE?"- As he bombarded me with questions, I just felt my mind going blank. The only thing I could think about was how cute he is. I giggled at his reaction to me waking up.

Arianna: "I'm fine, my name is Arianna, and no, I do not need medical assistance."- He looked at me dumbfounded. His cheeks turned a bright shade of red. "What is it?"

V: "Your shirt went up above your stomach... I-I can see it clearly..."- I giggled as I pulled down my shirt. He pulled it back up, then looked at me. I could tell he was worried, but he also had a look in his eyes that I knew well. Anger. "What is that?"- He pointed towards the bruises on my stomach and poked one. I winced in pain and pulled my shirt down.

Arianna: "It's nothing..."- He pulled up my sleeves to see all of my scars. Before I could say anything, he pulled me into a tight hug. It felt so... right?

V: "What happened to you...."- He sounded like a concerned child talking to a lost dog with an eye missing. It warmed my heart, and made my stomach do somersaults. I quickly pulled my sleeves down, grabbed my backpack, and walked away. He can't get close to me... No one can. If they did, they would only get hurt. I ruin everything, after all.

Shortly after that, V started hanging out with me, away from his other friends. I felt accepted. Suddenly one day, he stopped talking to me. The bullying got worse. My father's abuse got worse. I found my mother one morning collapsed on the patio with a beer bottle in her hands and her lips slowly turning blue.

Arianna: "MOM!!!"- I tried to pick her up, but I was only strong enough to support her while she did most of the walking. I would have gotten my dad, but he was out buying more alcohol and cigarettes. Our house always smelled of alcohol, tears, and nicotine. After a while, I stopped noticing it. My mother falling on her bed ripped me out of my thoughts as I tried to tuck her in.

Mom: "DON'T TOUCH ME! YOU WERE A MISTAKE! WHY WOULD I EVER NEED ANYTHING FROM YOU? YOU ARE ONLY HERE BECAUSE WITHOUT YOU OUR TAXES WOULD BE WORSE!!! YOU ARE WORTHLESS AND UNWANTED! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, AND MY ROOM."- I knew all of it already. She never loved me, even if I tried to love her. Even if I tried to brush off those words as most of our usual conversations, it still stung. I could feel tears filling my eyes, but I had to hold it in because I had to go to school. Thinking about it would feel like my heart being ripped out and set on fire thousands of times. I couldn't cry at school, it would just make it worse.