Tattooed Emotions

22

Dan

I opened my eyes, blinking as the harsh bright light shone in my eyes, groaning as a sharp pain sliced through my head. Lifting my hand to my forehead, I felt a bandage wrapped around it.

I turned my head to look around the room and saw Philip sitting on a chair, his leg tapping on the ground and his fingers picking nervously at the skin around his nails.
"Philip?" I asked, surprised at how much my voice croaked and how sore it was to talk.

His head tilted upwards, and I watched as relief washed over his face, and he moved to stand up.

"Where am I? Why are you here?" I sat up, despite my head pounding, but I didn't want to be in a vulnerable position to him. He'd lost any trust I had for him.

"We're in the medical room at school. I came to see you. I was worried."

My fists clenched and I shut my eyes tight, trying to stop tears from falling. "You walked away!"

"I was scared!" His voice was pleading, desperate, but all I saw was a traitorous manipulative dickhead. "If Chris saw me help you, I wouldn't live to see the sunrise!"

"So you just watched? As I got beaten up and called a fag? As they kicked me in the nuts and yelled slurs in my face you just left?!"

"I'm sorry..."

"You know you're a fucking fag too! So why not take the beatings with me rather than let me take all of them by myself? You want me to trust you and then you pull stunts like this? I'm done with you breaking me apart. I gave you your chance and you've blown it."
My legs wobbled beneath me as I moved towards the door, my hand opening it.

"Dan... please..." His strained voice held tears.

"Goodbye Philip."

And then the door closed behind me and I ran to the school bathrooms, wasting no time in finding my way to the sink and staring at myself in the fogged up mirror as tears rolled down my cheeks.

My eyes were red and puffy, with a dark purple bruise forming over the left one, and a cut on my cheek. My hair was matted and stood in infinite directions and my lip was pink and swollen.

Besides my physical pain, I was filled with emotional pain, too from the event.

The words spoken to me were still echoing around my head as I closed the door on Philip, turned away and said goodbye to him. To us.

What had I done?

Choking sobs fell from my dry, scratchy throat and scraped along my skin. It was as if something was cracking inside of me as I finally lost the only thing keeping me in this world, giving me meaning.

Philip was gone, and so was the last shred of hope.

I ran my fingers through my hair, and watched as something black fell into the white bowl beneath me.

My reflection in the mirror showed me what it was. Another thing I had lost. Another thing that made me feel more alone. My hand flew to my cheek in shock as I saw the change in colour, the patch of skin where black once been, and the cracks that spread along the remains.

My tattoo was breaking apart.