Shorts (Literally. Maybe Even Coming Off.)

Bay and Ash 5

Ash stood in the shower, rubbing shampoo into his hair. He loved the way bubbles felt on his skin. It was a guilty pleasure of his, one which he didn't bother to share with anyone. Suddenly he felt the panic. Though it was routine for him now, it always upset him. Today the red lines cross crossed his thighs. "No more ripped jeans for me," he sighed. The pain was greater than usual, which was surprising since the cuts were usually deep anyway. He looked down to see his own blood swirling down the drain. At first he thought it was just part of their connection, a more intense projection of emotions. But when he ran his fingers over the cuts, blood came off on his fingers and everything stung under the water. His soulmate had cut too deep, cut into him.

Ash got out of the shower. He tried to bandage the cuts but they kept bleeding through. This was too much for him to handle. He went to bed, hoping that when he woke up, all of this would disappear.

In the morning, he'd forgotten about previous nights events until he caught a glance of himself in the mirror. There were newly healed scars from his elbows to his shoulders and scabbed over cuts from his elbow to his wrist. The cuts on his thighs were just barely shut and some were still sleeping blood. There were a few thin lines on his torso and by his ankles. There was so much destruction it hurt to look at it.

Ash dressed in some black sweats and a hoodie, hoping to hide the evidence, deceive himself again. But he couldn't get the images out of his head. He left first period and hid in the library to cry. He didn't want anyone to see him like this but he just couldn't handle this anymore. He wished he could help whoever it was that felt this was necessary. He didn't want to live seeing these everyday. Depression covered him like a blanket.