Slowly Bleeding Lies ~Bughead~

fourteen

         **Hehe grab some tissues ;)**
Jughead's POV: As we were sitting in Pop's, we talked like nothing had happened. Like we were normal. We aren't normal. That's why I liked Betty. She wasn't normal. So I hated talking normally.
          We kept asking each other stupid questions that we both already knew the answer to. I know too much about her already to ask any questions. "Betty, why're we doing this?" I asked her. "Doing what?" She asked. "Asking pathetic questions we already know." I said. She shrugged. "How did everything get so screwed up?" I asked her. "I don't know." She said. "Everything is fine, though." She added. "No it's not Betty." I said. "What's wrong with you?" She got defensive. "You, Betty! You're what's wrong with me! I can't get through the day...without thinking about anything but you!" My eyes were watering.
Betty's POV: Jughead was to the point where he was whisper yelling, and his eyes were bloodshot and watering. Two tears streamed down my face at once. "W-why?" Is all I could find. He just wiped his eyes, which made them more red. "Because, Betty." He said. "I had no idea, that you even cared about me when I saw you that day in the treehouse. You were so obsessed with Archie, I knew from the start he would break your heart." He continued. "And I just watched from far away, waiting for it to happen. And when it did, it seemed you cared less about me." He looked down. "You know that's not true." I said, stuttering on my words. He put his trembling hand above his head, and clenched his fist on his beanie. He pulled off his hat, and sat it on the table. It revealed his soft, wavy black hair. I've only seen him without his hat four or three times. In all years that I've known him. "Maybe we should have stayed friends." He said. "Once again, you kissed me. "Yeah, was it a mistake though? You tell me." He said. "No. It wasn't." I said while my tears started to get quicker. "Can we please go outside, Jughead?" I asked him while wiping away a tear. He grabbed his bag and we started walking toward my house.
          We were silent for a few minutes. My tears were still streaming down my face, Jughead's eyes grew tired, with red in his eyes, to the droops under them. "What was wrong with Pop's?" He asked dryly. I stopped walking and faced him. "Everyone started staring, Jughead." He stopped too. "And if this is where I'm supposed to say sorry, it's not going to happen." I said. "I'm not asking you to say sorry. I'm just asking you this one thing." A tear left a mark on his cheek. "Why me?" He choked on his words. "Why even look at me, when Archie kissed you?" He asked. "Archie is so perfect for you. And here I am making a fool of myself." He tried to hold back tears. "It's not Archie!" I said. "Why would you ever think that?" My voice was shaking and I was trembling. "I told him to go after V. And I meant it!" I said. He didn't speak, just kept wiping away every tear that escaped his eyes. "I just- I don't get it. I'm so far from Archie. I could never give you that, Betty." He said, and started to walk away. I caught his arm, but he didn't turn around. "Where are you going?" I asked. "Home." He said. My arm fell off of his, and he left me alone.
           **may be uncomfortable for some readers.**
Jughead's POV: I got into my dad's trailer and slammed the door. I threw off my beanie and sat against the door, crying. When I'd finally calmed myself down I stared blankly down at the ground. The trailer was really dark, no lights turned on. I was only focused on one thing: hating myself. Hating myself for leaving, hating myself for loving Betty. Hating myself for being me.
          I got up off of the floor and walked into the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and saw me. I wasn't nearly as good as Archie. He was taller, better looking, and a football player. What was I? A nobody. An outsider. A writer. Something struck inside of me. I punched the mirror, and the glass went everywhere. I had small pieces in my hands, that caused little trails of blood down my pointer finger, and one in my palm. I stared at my face in a broken piece of glass, and I grabbed a blade out of the drawer. I sat by the bathtub, and stared at my clean wrist. So clean, and now it'd be so broken. I lifted up the blade, and touched my skin with it. I slowly glided it to where it was a straight line. A tear dropped onto the blood, and it tingled. The blood was slowly moving down my arm, and I didn't feel a thing. I put the blade against my skin again, ignoring a faint sound. All I heard was someone whispering. I did it slowly again, numbness taking over my whole arm. I got tired, unable to hardly move. I put the blade up again, the final one. I heard something. "Jughead?" I felt my head getting hot. I pressed the blade down. "Jughead!" The door banged open. Betty stood there, staring at me. She put two hands over her mouth, and knelt down crying.