FireFly

Chapter Three

TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF HARM!!!! LOOK OUT FOR THE *******

ConnorMurphy: Hey it's Connor.

Evan H :): Oh hi! It's Evan.

ConnorMurphy: I know.

ConnorMurphy: U gave me the number.

Evan H :): Oh sorry, that was really annoying!

Evan H :): I didn't mean to do that, well I did but

Evan H:): I'm so sorry????

ConnorMurphy: Whoa calm down ur fine.

Evan H :): Okay, sorry.

ConnorMurphy: Sooooooo

ConnorMurphy: What are u doing?

Evan H :): Watching a documentary.

ConnorMurphy: Kool.

ConnorMurphy: What about?

Evan H :): Cool isn't spelled with a K???

Evan H :): And this tree in California that's over 1000 years old.

ConnorMurphy: It is if ur Kool.

ConnorMurphy: Also shit that's a rly long time.

Evan H :): Long time is a bit of an understatement, Connor.

ConnorMurphy: Almost as old as the librarian at school.

Evan H :): Haha yeah.

ConnorMurphy: Fuck I keep forgetting we go to the same school.

Evan H :): Well...

Evan H :): I don't put myself in the centre of attention that much, not many people know who I am.

ConnorMurphy: I know u.

Evan H :): I guess you do.

ConnorMurphy: And btw

ConnorMurphy: I'd rather have people not know me than think of me as a fucking freak.

Evan H :): You're not a freak.

ConnorMurphy: How do you fucking know!?!

Evan H :): Because you're really nice!

ConnorMurphy: I'm not Evan.

ConnorMurphy: You don't know jackshit about me so don't fucking pretend to, okay?!

Evan H :): I'm not pretending??

Evan H :): Sorry... I didn't know calling someone nice was a bad thing.

ConnorMurphy: It's not a fucking bad thing!!! You're just saying it because it'd be awkward if you agreed. Well guess what Hansen?? I'm a freak. A fucking big too. And you fucking lying about that isn't gonna help so just take ur shitty half arse attempt at being a good boy Boy Scout and fuck off already!!!!

___________________

Evan didn't reply after that.

It was late and Connor could see that Evan had read the message nearly twenty minutes ago now.

God, what was the fucking matter with him?!

Why couldn't he just be normal? Why did that one comment, that was actually kind of a compliment, affect him?

Why was his brain so fucked up that he had to lash out at one of the only hopes he had of a real, true friend?!

Why, why, why, why, why?!!!!

Connor took a deep breath and tried releasing it calmly like he'd been taught to do at all those stupid therapy camps Cynthia signed him up for.

It didn't work. Obviously.

His pulse was racing, he could feel his heart beating out of his chest. It was the only way Connor knew he was alive these days, that pounding in his chest he got from an adrenaline rush.

His hands were shaking too much and he could feel, when he balled his hands up into fists, his chipped, black painted nails digging into his flesh.

He was still angry.

And he didn't know why.

It had been nearly twenty three minutes now since he'd sent that text to Evan and he was still mad.

Mad at himself for lashing out at Evan. Mad at Evan for lying to him. Mad at his brain for being this fucking broken!

****TRIGGER WARNING****

And so, Connor did the only thing he knew how to do when he had spiralled this far.

He got up from where he was laying on his bed and took a razor that he kept in his drawer in his hand.

Connor twirled the razor in his palm, just looking at it. He wasn't in anyway hesitant, the scars littering his arms and thighs proved that he was no stranger to slicing up his own flesh.

Sighing heavily, Connor scraped the razor into his wrist, pressing down a little harder every time and twisting it to make some kind of sick, beautiful pattern.

He watched emotionlessly as a crimson waterfall of warm blood trickled down his pale arms and dripped off the edge of his fingertips to a somewhat neat little puddle on the hard, bedroom floor beneath him.

Once satisfied, or too tired to carry on, he didn't know which. Connor buried the razor back in his desk drawer and went about the embarrassing task of cleaning himself up.

It was a simple procedure by now, tissue to the cut, try his best to get the blood stain out of the floor and when that didn't work put dirty laundry over it, and he knew he was supposed to bandage up the new scars but if he did that every time he cut them Connor would never see his arms again.

Not that that was a bad thing, but oh well.

So once he was sure that he'd stopped bleeding, he simply rolled down the sleeves of his black hoodie, did the Walk Of Shame back to his bed and fell on his stomach onto the comforting fabric beneath.

****IT IS SAFE, ALSO I LOVE YOU****

Connor knew he had to make things right with Evan. But really, he was too fucking exhausted, physically and mentally, to do anything about it yet.