COLD TO THE TOUCH || RILAYA

T H I R T E E N

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM

I sit near my window in a loveseat with my sketchpad resting on my legs, a pencil in hand, and my head staring at the New York lights. I look down to see that all I've drawn was Riley holding a purple cat.

"Nice drawing!"

I loose my balance and fall out of the chair followed by a short scream. I look out the window to find one of my friends was greeting me.

"Farkle? What are you doing here, it's midnight!" I yell as I stand back up.

"I couldn't sleep and I'm guessing you couldn't either. Can you let me in? It's really cold and my coat isn't heavy," he asks, pointing at the window hinges. I stomp over to him and let him enter my room.

"Only for a little while. My parents would freak if they knew I had someone over at this time."

"Thanks. But we need to talk," he says in a serious voice. He walked over to my bed and sat down, motioning for me to join him.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I grabbed his hand.

"Everything. Everything's wrong. Recently, every little thing in my life is falling apart. My parents are divorcing, I'm failing tests, Riley's in the hospital, Zay is questioning if he's really gay or not..."

I listen as Farkle vents about everything I had no idea about.

I didn't know he could have so much anxiety, he's the one kid in our group who never showed signs of it.

"A-And... no-now that-"

"Farkle," I interrupt as I stop a tear from trickling down his cheek. "Take a deep breath, I've never seen you so worked up."

"I know... Nobody's ever there for me to rant, not even Zay."

"I take it that it might not be working out too well?" I ask sympathetically, rubbing his back.

"He said he needs a break. He needs time to figure everything out. That's when...um-"

"What?"

Farkle's silent for a while.

"What happened? What did you do?"

"N-Now just don't o-overreact when I s-show you-"

"What did you do," I start to raise my voice.

Farkle stood up and gently took off his jacket, tossing it onto the chair I fell off of. He revealed a sweatshirt underneath.

He never wears sweatshirts...

He sits back down next to me and takes a deep breath.

"There's a lot of them."

It's my turn to be silent.

"It's been going on for a while... I never told anyone."

No...

"But I feel like you're the only one who can understand what I did."

I can, but...

Farkle takes off his sweatshirt and places it on my pillow. He's wearing a black t-shirt, revealing something horrifying. My face was expressionless, scaring him.

"Maya... please say something. I just need someone to talk me out of this and show me it's something that isn't going to make me feel better because all it does is make me feel better," he begged, shaking my shoulders. My eyes were still focused on his arm, not the words coming out of his mouth. Farkle slowly removed his trembling hands from me and stood up.