Lost

~Chapter Four: The Practice~

Every year our school has a fall dance. And every year I've always stayed home for two reasons..... One I can't dance. AT ALL! Two I've never been asked to go. I've always been afraid to wear a dress, cause of my cuts and I know Ill look horrible. No one knows about my addiction to self harm but Hannah, now that I'm with Peter I'm scared he will find out. After lunch Peter walks me to our next class.

"Hey you going to go the dance with me?" Peter asks me while putting his arm around my waist. Once he lays his arm around me I feel my whole body shiver.

"I would but I-I can't dance."

"Don't worry pretty lady. My family sings and dances. I can teach you!" Peter says and starts dancing a little bit.

I start to laugh, "You look so dumb right now!"

Peter stops and gives me the sweetest sad look ever.

"Stop with you eyes!!! It's my weakness." I kiss him on the cheek.

"My eyes are your weakness, eh?" He smirks.

"Yea they are. Now when you going to teach me to dance?"

We enter the classroom and sit in our assigned seats.

"After school. Ill come get you."

"Okay." I say loud enough for him to hear me.

A bunch of thoughts rush through my mind, what if he can't teach me? Or if I'm so bad he won't want to go with me? Class goes by quick, because soon enough the bell rings. I walk to my locker and Peter has beat me there and already holding my backpack.

"Why do you have my backpack?" I ask while putting my books in my locker and some in my bag.

Peter closes my bag and respond, "So you dont have to carry it my love."

"Thanks hun but I can carry it." I grab it from his hand and start walking to my car.

"Your so fiesty...... I like." Peter winks and closes my car door.

"Your a dork. So ill see you later. Just come up to my room when your over." I lean up and kiss him then drive off.

When I get home I decide to change into a lighter sweater, so I look for my white one. I get my box and sit on my bed and cut three small perfectly vertical lines. I hear the front door being closed, I quickly throw the box and pull down my sleeves, just as Peter walks in. I grab the nearest magazine and pretend to read it.

"What ya reading?" Peter comes and sits next to me.

I turn the magazine and look at the cover, "Oh you know, Hot Celebs." I start to laugh.

Peter shakes his head laughing, "You read weird things." He pulls the magazine away.

"Lets just dance. You bring any music?" I ask.

"Yea, here." He hands me a CD.

I get up and put the CD in and start moving stuff on my floor out of the way.

Peter clicks the play button and the slow song starts to play. He comes close to me and grabs my hand. We start to dance.

"Now twirl!" Peter says twirling me, I look at my arm and I see the blood through my sweater.

Peter stops moving and pulls my arm down, "Wait, are you okay?"

"Yes, lets continue." I nervously say while trying to pull my arm from him, but he has a tight grip.

"No, I don't think you are. Your bleeding. Let me see." He pulls my sleeve up. Now he can see all my cuts and scars down my arm, he looks at my other arm and pulls the sleeve up. Now he can see all of them. Every single battle I had with myself. He only stares at them. Not moving or saying anything. Just stares. I feel the tears streaming down.

"Stop I'm okay." I jerk away my arms and run to my bathroom, locking the door behind me. I slide down the door and cry. I hear Peter's footsteps towards the door. He tries to open the door.

"Brooklyn, please unlock the door. Please." He continues to try turning the knob. I get up and unlock the door then sit down with my back against the tub. He opens the door and slowly walks to me and sits down. I'm to ashamed to even look at him so I turn away. He turns me back around and lays my head on his lap. I turn on my side so I'm not looking at him.

"Why?" He starts to stroke my hair.

I roll over to where I can see him, "I-I didnt want you to know. Cause now your probably going to break up with me. You don't want a girl who cuts or is depressed. I cant control...." I swallow the lump in my throat and pause as the tears fall harder.

"Your cuts tell a story, they arnt something that will make me break up with you. Your cuts each are a battle and mean something." Peter whispers and holds my hand in his and gently goes over each one with the tips of his fingers.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, the people who make you want to do that to yourself should be." He pulls my head up and leans down setting his forehead against mine.

"Your still my beautiful angel." He stares into my eyes, then wipes the tears from my face.

I smile, "Thank you."

"Just don't anymore please!?" Peter says in the sweetest voice, then pauses, "Each time you do it hurts me." His eyes start to water.

"No no, please don't cry."

"I just hate seeing my angel in this much pain and suffering so bad, when I could've done something."

"Nothing you could've done. Ill try to stop. But if we go to the dance, people might see them if I wear a dress." I sit back up.

"Dress or a trash bag, you'll still be beautiful." Peter smiles.

"More like I am the trash bag! I don't have a dress."

"Don't say that! Then we will go shopping. Right now!" He stands up and pulls me up.

"I don't have money." I stop him.

"I do, let's go."

•Authors Note•

Okay well Id like to thank the people who have read it. It's going to take me a while to update the next few chapters because I have to type it in my notes, cause I wrote it in a notebook. And it's taking me a while. Um sorry if you've started reading it and hate it. But it's my first one so take it easy. I'd really like it if more people know about it and stuff. And, id like it if you would go check out my favorite fanfiction writer, _hooligan4ever . She has the best Bruno mars fanfictions. My favorite has to be upon a red balloon . She's starting a new one soon. You should check her out. Thanks for reading and voting .