Light Behind The Dark

12

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'Stop!' The text said.

'Don't hurt yourself Chris' another text popped out and now Chris was creeped out. But he also felt warmth. 

Yes, the texts being sent by an unknown number was eerie, but it somehow conveyed that he wasn't completely alone. He felt like he was being looked after.

Chris added pressure on his bleeding wrist and stood up. He looked toward his left and noticed movement. The same blond hair. He saw it disappear but didn't run after him or her.

He just went to the washroom and put his wrists under running water. Pain. It hurt so much but Chris could bear it. He was used to pain. 

Behind him, one of the stall doors opened and Rick, one of his bullies, came out and smirked when he noticed Chris.

"Now, now, look who's here." He sneered and Chris tensed up and gulped. The school bell hadn't rung and there was still time for classes to start.

Chris's breathing came out uneven as he watched Rick look at him while he washed his hands. He turned to Chris and before Chris knew it, took a picture of him, standing there with fear filled eyes and wet clothes.

"Will make good use of the picture Chris." He said before leaving Chris alone in the washroom. Chris let out a breath in relief, since for once, he wasn't picked up on. For once, he was left alone.

The day went by and Chris was lucky he didn't have to face his art teacher. He wouldn't know what to do if he had come across her.

Soon school came to an end but what he wasn't prepared was to get another text.

When he opened it, he gasped, covering his mouth with his hands and tried his best to fight his tears but failed.

He stared back at the picture of himself, which Rick had taken in the washrooms, but in this something was missing.

His clothes were missing. All of them.

Chris looked around him with wide tear filled eyes and heated cheeks, only to notice that everyone were holding their phones and stared right back at him. Some laughed, some remained silent. Some threw him nasty looks and some sympathetic. But none of them cared enough to step forward and console him. None of them were human enough.

Chris couldn't take it anymore, he ran out of the school building in a rush, his chest ached, not because of exhaustion, but because of the humiliation. Because of embarrassment.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to shout to everyone that blowing someone else's fire doesn't make yours light brighter.

But he remained silent, sobbing.

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