Caving In

8. Guns For Hands

Song: Guns For Hands

Artist: Twenty Øne Pilots

Saturday, April 4th.

"That you all have guns, and you never put the safety on." The lyrics rung through my earbuds. My small, tired frame was thrown around in the half empty bus due to the bumpy road on my way to the hospital. I had gotten little sleep lately, and I agreed to meet Mr. Alexander at the hospital so I could check up on Margaret. The bus slowed to a stop at the bus stand near the large building, and I slowly made my way to the exits.

And of course, I was the late one. My dad and mom had went off to work, since they were called in for an extra shift, and my brother was at a competition for badminton. Of course, I would have been left with my grandparents, but Margaret was awake, so I get to spend the day there with her until my parents come back. Mr. Alexander's there too, for some apparent reason, don't ask me why, I'm way to tired to even listen to an explanation.

"Hey there- Whoa." My teacher's lopsided smile quickly turned into a frown as he studied my tired eyes. Margaret grinned when she saw me, and waved a little hello.

"I'm going to get some coffee. Anybody want anything?" I said in a somber tone. Mr. Alexander sat me down on a chair, grabbing his wallet and asking me what kind of coffee I would like. I shook my head to clear up some dizziness and replied with one cream two sugar.

He disappears around the corner, and Margaret taps my leg. I look at her, slowly blinking, and yawning.

"Hey. You look really tired. Why don't you sleep-" I eyes snap wide open with fear and I snap at her.

"I can't. I haven't been able to for the past three weeks, Margaret. Weeks." I said, my voice scratchy and harsh. Spots danced in my eyes though, as that image quickly flashed through my mind again. I finch, and rub my face.

"Here's your coffee. Why do you look so sleep deprived?" My teacher walks in with 2 cups of coffee. I decide to take a seat, as I sip my coffee a bit before taking one relaxing gulp. They're waiting for an answer.

"It's not a big deal.." I muttered, and Mr. Alexander crouched beside me. I turn away and look through the window.

"Chael. Look at me." He says softly. I slowly turn my head around, looking at the ground.

"What's going on?" My head droops a little more.

"It's nothing. Seriously." I tell him. I know he doesn't believe me for a second.

"Then why won't you look at me?" I glare at the ground, and then look up to stare at him. His expression softens a little bit, inspecting my face. It'll admit, it's quite pale, and certainly scratched up. There's a mid sized scar above my left eyebrow, my nose has healed up mostly, and I have a large cut on the right side of my face from the middle of the eye, down. My eyes are sunken, and they no longer carry that tiny spark of light in them. He points to my large cut, asking what happened there.

"Oh well, funny thing actually. I was sparring with my brother, and his arrogant ass- I mean, arse, decided that it would be a great idea to show off, and managed to strike me in the face." Mr. Alexander winced in pain. I secretly rolled my eyes. He wasn't the one getting hit in the face constantly with a competitive sibling. Heck, I bet he never even had fights with his siblings.

"So. What about the bags under your eyes?" Dang. He still hasn't forgotten about that. I chuckled akwardly, before giving a brief explanation.

"Well, you see, ever since we visited Margaret, I've been seeing this grotesque image that I see when I close my eyes. Like, it's me, but not me because my eyes are all bloody and gouged out, and my wrists and throat are slit, and I'm wearing this black suit and tie, and a white dress shirt that has been splattered with someone's blood." I trail off slowly, and Mr. Alexander just nods this whole time, before getting up, and grabbing another chair, and making me sleep.