compare scars

nineteen

Dan had been sick. For the last week he hadn't left his bed more than ten times. Kyle had been round his place everyday after school to look after him, making him soup and keeping him up to date.

This day though it was different.

When he entered the small apartment the door was locked. Dan never locked the door, even when he wasn't home.

"Dan?" He knocked on the door, his voice laced with worry.

Little did he know what was going to the other side of the door.

"I hate myself." Dan laughed to himself, gulping down the liquid as fast as he could. As it went down it scorched his throat, leaving the skin raw.

How could he think he could stop?

"For Kyle"

Those two words were his short lived ticket to sobriety. He had quit, well he had tried. But the side affects had him crippled, stuck in bed.

Kyle thought it was the flu, and he sold it well.

"My mom had just got over the flu when I met with her last week." He had told Kyle, adding a cough to the end.

For the past week he hadn't slept longer than an hour. He had tried eating, but his stomach couldn't hold much. Everything he ate ended back in the toilet. The worst though was his racing heart. It felt as if he had just drank five coffees.

He knew that quitting cold turkey was stupid. But Dan had never thought it would make him physically sick.

"Dan! Please open up." Kyle said this time quicker, pure unfiltered panic controlling him. He couldn't walk in on what he saw last time.

Dan stayed quiet, sitting on the floor of the kitchen, a bottle of scotch in his hand.

He soon heard the door open, Kyle's worried voice shouting through his house.

He quickly scooted to behind his island, trying to finish the bottle before Kyle found him.

"Dan?" Kyle shouted, his eyes going wide as he found his boyfriend. He was gripping onto the bottle so hard that his knuckles were white. Sweat was dropping down his face, his normally pale skin a sickly green. As Kyle got closer he scooted further away, looking at him with shame in his eyes.

"Go away." He snapped, feeling like a child getting caught.

"I don't want you here." Dan yelled, watching as hurt took over Kyle's face. All he wanted was to be alone once again, continue drinking, and maybe listen to some sad music.

"I don't care." He snapped, taking the bottle of scotch out of his hands.

"Give me that!" He yelled, trying to rip the bottle from Kyle's hands. How could Kyle have the audacity?

"You cannot keep drinking like this!" He shouted, his face bright red.

"I tried stopping! You don't get it!" Dan shouted back feeling as the tears began welling up in his eyes.

"You think I don't get it? You think I don't get it." Kyle chuckled to himself taking a swig from the bottle.

"Yeah you think I don't get it. You think you're the only one who's in pain. I never thought you could be so selfish Dan. I came over here to give you this."

Kyle then slammed down the box down onto the table. 

"Call me when you're not drunk or high or whatever else you do that you haven't told me about. Bye."

Kyle then left, slamming the door as he left.

---

Dan opened the box carefully, his hands shaking. Tears were flowing down his face freely, staining the cardboard box.

He opened the box pulling out an old camera. It was an old Canon film camera along with a note.

To Dan,
I know things have been really hard lately, and I thought this maybe cheer you up a little bit. When I was younger my dad gave it to me, but we both know I'm a terrible photographer. But you're amazing and I thought of you. Hope this cheers you up a little bit.
Love, Kyle x

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Hahaha sorry not sorry

Yesterday my friend told me how much I meant to her and I almost died. That just made my life.