FAKE // NATEWANTSTOBATTLE

Unsolved Problems

"I-I uh..." I stuttered, completely at a loss for words as my brain fought to think up a reasonable explanation - other than the truth of course. I wasn't really ready to admit to Mark what had actually happened. My brain rifled through ever little thing it could to make sure I protected myself - if only it would let me grasp one thought before moving to another. My mind over worked itself and that only worked against me.

I hadn't expected to be so unaware of myself and get caught like this. I'm just happy I'm not near him right now, because he seems pretty pissed off.

As his eyes stared into his phone camera and bared into mine, I almost wished I wasn't talking to him anymore. I never feel like that around him. This time, I wanted to just hang up the call and forget I ever even needed his help. At this point, I don't even fucking remember what I needed him for. All I know is I needed his help with something. I looked at my desk. Oh yeah, my homework. However, we had clearly forgotten all about that during this point in time.

"Nathan, tell me what happened  this instant." He demanded.

"It's clear what happened." I gulped, averting my gaze.

"I know what happened, but I want clarification. I want to hear you say it." Mark demanded, tears welling in his eyes as he clenched his fists. The camera glitches for a moment and i see him with his head in his hands.

Skype sucks ass when it glitches up, but that was beside the point.

"I-I, uh," I stuttered as a lump welled in my throat, "I cut myself again."

A sob was clear from Marks end of the video. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he cried. Why was he crying?

"Why?" He sobbed out. "Why didn't you call me?" He begged of me. I knew that line was going to come out of his mouth.

"It was almost two in the morning and I didn't want to wake you with my problems." I muttered, scratching the back of my neck nervously.

"I told you that you could call me at any time and I would answer. My phone buzzing would have woke me because I'm a light sleeper, so I would have been able to talk to you! I would have been able to be there for you, Nathan!" He said, sniffling.

I had no comeback, so I decided to ask him what I had been curious of.

"Mark, what the hell are you crying for?" I asked him. I knew that seemed dumb an insensitive, but hey, he wasn't the one with cuts on his arm and a fucked up mindset.

"Your my friend! Your my friend and I want the absolute best for you! Not this shit. You need to see a therapist, Nate! You need to talk to someone other than me or Ethan." My eyes widened as the words passed his lips.

Me talk to a shrink? I don't even fucking think so.

"Why the hell should I open up and confess to someone who only wants a good pay check? Why should I be forced to talk about my problems to someone who wouldn't bat an eye if I were teetering on the edge of a cliff?" I asked him, almost spitting my words in disgust.

The thought of talking to a professional... how can you make mental illnesses a profession if you've never had the problems yourself? Sure, there are probably some genuine people who have first hand experience with the disorders - then there's also assholes who have no fucking clue what their talking about, and you have a 50 percent chance of getting stuck with one. Once I was legal age of medical consent, Mark had taken me to see someone. This idiot had no clue what he was talking about. The most I learned was the difference between being mindful and unmindful. He gave me quizzes on mindfulness and being unmindful! Once again 50 percent chance. Sorry, but I'd rather not take that risk.