Vampires Will Never Hurt You

Ch. 5 - Blood.

WARNING: This chapter contains scenes which may trigger self-harm.

Do not read if you are easily influenced to harm yourself.

Read with caution.

Frank's POV

I really don't want to go home. I'd rather go to school. That's how much I hate going home.

I decide to take a walk, so I throw my backpack behind a bush in front of my house and begin with my route.

It's still raining. My gelled hair is now a mess. Its sticking out in different directions and some of its stuck to my face. I'm soaking wet without a jacket. I didn't bring one, too much was going on this morning. I couldn't think straight. I still can't.. I've got too much on my mind to worry about a jacket.

Did they tell that Gerard kid? Nobody was supposed to know. Not even myself.

I wasn't supposed to know.

If I could change one thing.. It'd be ever asking anyone about it. I should've kept it to myself. Nothing would be this bad if I had kept my mouth shut.

Gerard's POV

WARNING: Mildly graphic content

I'm such an idiot.. I know exactly what I need to do.

The bus arrives at my house and I get off, walk into my house, and head straight for my room. I toss my backpack onto my bed and dig through my desk drawer. I finally find a small box that was meant for a pair of earrings.

I open it up to see the metal of a razor gleam in the dim lighting of my room.

I roll up my hoodie sleeve and glide the razor along my skin, not doing any damage just yet. I sit on the floor and admire the cold metal in my hand.

This small object has caused so much destruction.

Not just to my skin.

My mindset.

My innocence.

My strength.

My happiness.

I guess it doesn't matter anymore. No more damage can be done. If there is, who cares? I'm too far gone.

I'm too alone.

I breathe in deeply as I pull the sharp side against my arm. I hold my breath until the blood comes up in a thin dotted line.

Pain... Our bodies possess it to protect us from dangerous situations, yet some of us inflict it on ourselves purposely.. Why?

I could try to explain but you would refuse to understand. See, it's only comprehensible if you've had an act of self-mutilation. Though I hope you never do.

Why did I start? I don't know.

Nobody influenced me.

As common as it sounds, people telling you things like

"go kill yourself"

"cut yourself"

doesn't happen all that often. The internet romanticizes it. They try to act as if self-harm is a 'tragic beauty'.

No. Shut up.

It's not beautiful.

It's not pretty.

It's not fun.

There is beauty in it. Not the cuts, or the scars. But within the self-harmer.

Some see it as an art form, and consider themselves artists.

Blood is a beautiful thing..

The crimson liquid is so rare though.

Maybe that's why some of us do it.

Someone knocks on my door.

"Gerard..? Can I come in?"

It's my 13 year old little brother, Mikey.

"It's uh.. Not the best time."

"Why not?"

I hear him turn the knob

"Mikey no!" I run up to the door and press myself against it.

"Gerard!? Let me in!"

"I told you it's not the best time!"

"But I wanna go to the comic book store!"

That's right.. I promised I'd go with him today.

"J-Just a second.." I say locking the door.

"Gee..? Are you okay?"

"I'm alright. Just give me a minute."

Looks like I'll have to finish this later.

I pull down my sleeve, not acknowledging the fact that the one of the lacerations on my arm is still open.

I unlock my door and step out, quickly closing the door behind me so Mikey doesn't see my room. I don't want him to find out.

"What were you doing?" Mikey asks innocently.

"I was.. changing."

"Okay."

We walk outside and head for the comic book store. It's not too far from our house, maybe a couple blocks.

"How was school?" I ask him

"It was okay I guess.. I was left alone just like always. What about you..?"

"Exactly the same."

"Oh. Do you like being ignored?"

"No, not exactly. But see Mikey, there's a difference; being ignored is having people that purposely choose not to acknowledge your existence. That's not the case for me. They don't do it purposely. They just don't notice me.."

"I like being left alone."

"Well, if that's what you like." I shrug.

"I mean, I guess it'd be nice to talk to someone at school once in a while.."

"Why don't you then?"

That was a rhetorical question. He's almost just like me.

"I'll always be alone, and I'm learning to be okay with that."

Oh my heart.

My poor brother, he's becoming everything I've always hated about myself. Something I hoped he'd never have to endure.

I have to be stronger. I need to stop being such a baby about things. For Mikey's sake, I need to be a better brother. But how? I can't just be a stronger, better, brother.

We get to the comic book store and a smile spreads on his face. He almost never smiles. His smile is so beautiful, I wish he'd do it more often.

I'd like to clear something up.

Boys can be beautiful too.

How could you ignore Mikey? He's such a great person. With a great personality.

I just wish people would see that.