Let me help you - Rykey

Part 1

Mikey's POV:

I slammed the door and ran to the park, shoving my phone in my pocket and slumping down on the swing, tears falling from my eyes. This wasn't a new scenario. This happened about three times a week, my mum would come home drunk, my dad would get annoyed, they'd fight, he'd refuse to hit a woman, he hit me instead. So, I swung my legs off the edge of the swing, grabbed my blade and did a few swipes across my wrist, not feeling any pain as I was so numb to it now. As I sat on the swing, I looked back on my life. I looked back and realised how pathetic my life was, and I was the only one who could change that. I reluctantly took out my phone and typed in the number for the Campaign Against Living Miserably (CALM)... 0800585858.

Rye's POV:

Another day at work. I threw on my uniform and did my hair before leaving my house. I loved my job, but it was so hard to do sometimes. I worked for CALM and it was the most rewarding thing knowing I save so many lives. I got in my car and drove the long way to work. I would always go the long way, passed the park on the corner. I don't know why but there was always this boy there, on his own, and he was gorgeous. His hair was black and curly and, from what I could see from my car, he had piercings on his face. I could never pluck up the courage to talk to him so I would usually just gaze at him before carrying on my drive. 

I put my bag in my locker and sat down at my desk, turning on the phone and sitting back, waiting for my first call. About 5 minutes passed and the phone rang. 

R: Hello, Campaign Against Living Miserably, my name is Rye, how may I help you tonight?

M: H-hey Rye, I'm Mikey. I need your help.