the next day when i came back to school i expected things to go back to the way they were.
they didn't.
you avoided me like the plague. not one spare glance was thrown my way. it hurt. it hurt me so much.
class ended. you immediately got up to leave. i sprung out of my chair and ran down the hall, grabbing your wrist when i reached you. you winced and pushed me away immediately.
"what? what's wrong?" i asked, looking down at your arm. you avoided my gaze.
i ripped your sleeve up, exposing bruises upon bruises. but that wasn't the worst part.
red cuts line up and down your arm. my mind begins to spin and the colors all smear together.
blue. purple. yellow. green. red.
blood, blood, blood. it's all i can see. all i can see are your arms.
my world is spinning. someone is calling my name. i try to reply.
the world goes black.
•••••
i wake up in the nurses room. my eyes adjust slowly to the light. i look to my right and there you are, chewing on your bottom lip. a bad habit.
you notice my movement and get up immediately. "are you okay?" you ask, breathless.
for a second i wonder why i'm here. then it all floods back.
this is wrong. you should not be asking if i'm okay, it should be he other way around. you are the one that is hurting the most. you are the most important.
"are you okay?" i ask you, ignoring your initial question. you scoff at me and slide back.
"i shouldn't have waited for you to wake up. i should have known you would talk to me about this." you hiss, beginning to get up. i grab your sleeve before you can walk away.
"stop." you demand, your eyes burning with anger and hurt. "just stop. stop trying to save me. stop trying to talk to me. stop getting attached to me. please, just stop this altogether." you plead, your eyes beginning to well with tears.
"look at me. just look at me one more time." i asked, my voice breaking.
your eyes meet mine. the color blue that i could never get tired of, never in this lifetime.
the eyes are the window to the soul. that's why i asked you to look at me. to this day, i regret not noticing sooner. i regret not being observant enough.
you were broken, i could see it in the way you looked at me. and not even my love could put your pieces back together again.
YOU ARE READING
i'm sorry.
Short Story(Completed) your body was a canvas and your father's fist was the paintbrush. lowercase intended