In Love With a Renegade

Chapter 8: Somebody Just Like Me

Hayley's POV

It was past midnight. Exactly 3:45 AM. I couldn't sleep for the life of me. Another downside of being me. I suffered from insomnia most nights. Especially nights like these, memories and negative scenarios flooding my head, like the tears in my eyes.
I lied down on York's couch, failing to hold back my tears. They slid quickly down my face, until eventually I broke into heavy sobs. I just prayed he wouldn't hear me. I couldn't afford Taylor seeing me cry again. I couldn't let him see my weak side. It wasn't a matter of portraying my tough image. No. It was of showing that I wasn't as easily broken as I seem to be. In reality, I'm as fragile as glass. Maybe even worse.
But tonight, memories and scenarios got the best of me. I got up and went to my bag. I took my wallet out and opened it, searching for that one thing I needed so bad. The moonlight made a glare with it, making it easier for me to spot it as it shone. I heaved a relived sigh as I pulled out the small, silver blade.
With it, a piece of paper fell to the floor. I looked down at it, debating if I should read it or not. I knew exactly what it was... but I still wasn't sure if I should ever open it again. I wasn't sure if I even wanted to have its existence. I gave a quiet, annoyed groan and picked up the note and read it.

Dear Hayley,
You're my best friend. You know that. Honestly, you're my only friend, aside from Jeremy and Zac. I guess you could already see that this note is getting really shitty, haha! I just want you to know that I'm always here for you, no matter what. You just gotta promise me something: don't ruin your life with booze and drugs. Even if you do, I'll still be your friend. I'll help you thought it all. That's my promise to you.
Well, I gotta hurry this or Mrs. Watson will catch me not writing notes, haha!
-Taylor York 5/12/04

I smiled a little as I swiped at my tears, the blade still between my fingers. I remembered the note from high school like it was yesterday. It was over a decade since I made that promise. My eyes hitched onto my old handwriting that was made in pink ink.

I promise.

I had to stop my drinking. I had to stop my drugs. I had to do it for Taylor. And in all honesty, it was worth it. It was for someone that cared. Someone who was really there for me. I didn't realize until now that I was crying a lot harder than before. My tears were more like waterfalls down my cheeks.
"I'm sorry, York," I rasped to myself. I dropped the note and quickly drew my sleeve up, revealing my already scarred arm. I pressed the small blade against my skin, red buds following and growing behind it. Each slice hurt, but it was my only way to remember this wrongdoing. This time, it was my own incorrect move.
Hayley, you have to stop this too, I thought to myself. I forced myself to drop the blade as I broke into heavy sobs. The blade fell to the wooden floor, a small ping followed by it. I looked at my arm, staring at my bleeding engravings.
I'm sorry, T.Y.