Mess

03

I don't know when I woke up. I don't know why I woke up. I don't know how I woke up. All I know is that I woke up. I didn't know my initial appearance. But I knew it probably wasn't pretty. I woke up to a thin hospital dress on me and lying on an uncomfortable white bed with an IV in my arm that frightened me. I wanted to rip that IV out of my arm and run away. But I felt too tired. To done. I almost felt heavy. I slowly turned my head from side to side. I saw white walls on one side with a small window. There was no color in here. Nothing to calm me. Nothing to help me. No way to keep me from panicking. I could feel it rising like bile in my throat. I was already panicking. I could feel the hives from my most recent panic attack. When I turned my head to the other side however, I saw something. Rather, someone. Scott. It was Scott. I looked at his face there were 3 huge slashes on his cheeks. They now had scabs on them. They looked like claw marks. I looked down at his arms. Bandages covered his right arm and left hand. I shakily look down at myself. I was unharmed. So why was I here? Scott was asleep on the chair. His face looked pale. Surprisingly, he didn't look horrible. I surprised myself by thinking my next thought. He actually looks fucking hot. Who would have knew?

I knew I have had to do something to Scott. I couldn't have been left unharmed and at the hospital. I closed my eyes and went back. I was having a panic attack. I was in the Starbucks restroom. Someone came in. I turned. They tried to help me. It was Scott. I stared at Scott. I made him like this. I caused him this pain. Yet he never got angry with me. He never screamed at me. He never yelled out in pain. He never struck me. I know it wasn't him who struck me. It was someone from here. They needed me to calm down. But it wasn't Scott. He tried to fight me off, but did it to where it wouldn't hurt me. The worse injuries I had were a few bruises on my wrists from where he tried to keep my from clawing him. Obviously it didn't work, according to his face. What surprised me more than anything was that no matter how much I had screamed and yelled and pitched a fit, Scott never yelled. Scott never hurt me. Scott never got angry. He never...... really did anything horrible to hurt me. I was so thankful for that. But it also made me feel worse. Especially since I had hurt him so much.

I sat in silence for over an hour before Scott stirred awake. As soon as he opened his eyes, they met mine and he sprung to attention. I couldn't help but smile weakly at him.

"Mitch. Are you alright?" Scott asked, looking down at my wrists to see the small, insignificant bruises he had left on my wrists. "Shit. I'm sorry. Do they hurt? I didn't mean to ever hurt you Mitch."

"I know." I whispered nodding. I put many fingertips on his cheek. Tears stung at my eyes. "You should have left me here after hurting you like this."

"You couldn't help it." He said. "You can't control where your mind fed during panic attacks." He grabbed my hand and placed it back on the bed. "Don't worry about it. Alright?"

"Will it heal?" I asked him. "Or will it scar."

"All physical wounds heal. And they aren't deep enough to scar. Don't worry about it." He assured me. "Nothing is wrong. You're fine. I understand panic attacks. I use to have them all the time. What you did isn't half as bad as what I've done. I broke someone's ankle once during a panic attack."

"I'm sorry." I whispered again. "I'm so so sorry."

"Don't be." He assured me. "Do you want to call your parents?"

"No." I shook my head. "They're better off thinking I'm fine."

"Alright." He nodded. "Mitch. Are you alright?"

"I feel bad for hurting you." I said. "When can we leave?"

"The doctors said they were gonna check your vitals. They're also convinced I'm whoever Travis is." He sighed. I became worried he was gonna make me talk. "Don't worry. You don't have to talk if you don't want to. I'm not gonna make you. But we do have to tell them who I am."