✧ Sleep Talking ✧ HyunIn ✧ [CANCELED]

THIRD CHAPTER 2/2

If there's any mistakes please let me know! Thanks for reading!

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Next morning

I woke with a pounding headache and a worse feeling of dread. I looked at the clock and noticed it was well past 1 o'clock. I sighed. My mom decided to let me stay home, which was a horrible idea. Everyone would ask what was wrong. I never missed school.

My phone rang and I looked at it.

Hyunjin.

"Yes?" My voice came out a bit worse than I intended.

"I was checking to see if you where ok? I went by your house and your mom said you wheren't feeling well. Was it something I did?" I wasn't going to let him get away with this forever. I needed to tell him.

"Yes. Yes it was something you did. You made me feel like shit for cheating on Felix. And when I got home I found out from Chan that Felix was also cheating on me. So it was partially your fault." He sighed.

"I'm sorry Innie. You don't deserve any of this and I wish I could help you. But you don't like me. Have a nice day. See you tomorrow." He hung up and the feeling in my chest didn't ease my dread. In fact, it made it worse.

I started breathing harder trying to ease the feeling. It didn't work. I started crying again and I just curled up in bed. Life is shit.

Later on my mom came in to see me curled up, my eyes drained of any remaining salty drops.

"Oh, honey." She was going to sit down but I stopped her.

"Mom, no. Go. I'm fine. I'll be fine." My voice was raspy from crying and I coughed. She nodded and left.

I looked around my room. It was too plain. Just like me. No wonder nobody likes me. I fit in just enough to be ignored. I had normal black hair, normal brown eyes. Ugly braces. Everything was plain. I hated every inch of my face and my body.

I felt itchy. I started to itch. My whole body. Something's crawling on me. I shook out my hair and I scratched up and down my legs and arms. The crawling didn't cease, if anything, it was getting worse. Then I scratched my wrists. That was it. It felt good. The crawling stopped for a second before continueing. I scratched my arm again completely stopping the crawling. I kept scratching. I scratched until my mom came in and found me with bloody nails and bloody wrists. She screamed and I stopped, looking at her with teary eyes.

I looked at my wrist. It's wasn't alot of blood. Just little. The crawling started again but I stopped myself. I didn't do it anymore until my mom had taken me to the ER.

As the doctor write in her computer my hands inched closer and I started scratching again. I was anxious. It wasn't my fault. My fingers dug into my skin once again and I kept quiet. The doctor turned around and her smile dropped as her eyes widened.

She quickly came to pry my hands apart. She grabbed bandages and wrapped my wrists.

"I need you to answer a few questions. Is that alright?" I nodded.

"Alright. When did these panic attacks start?" "Yesterday." "Why?" "My boyfriend had cheated on me and I couldn't breath so I started to panic for both reasons... I think?" "Ok, that's great. When did you start scratching?" "Just this morning." "Why did you scratch?" "I felt crawling in my body and I wanted to see where it was coming from so I started to scratch. It was coming from my wrist and I guess I got carried away." "Ok. Do you think you may have any mental disorders? Depression? Anxiety? PTSD? Anything of the sort?" "No, ma'am. Nothing I can think of." She nodded and didn't ask anymore questions.

She left the room. I looked around. Plain. Itchy. Wrists. No, I can't. I needed to control myself.

I sighed as another doctor entered with my mom and dad.

"Stupid son of a bitch. I told you. You called that one other faggot right before you had the panic attack. I knew it has something to do with being a fairy." My dad spat at me. I smirked. "What's so funny, huh?" He shoved me. "Tell me!"

"You just called yourself a bitch." He punched me. I laughed. "You're not strong. You need to do more than that to actually hurt me." I laughed in his face again. Truth is, it did hurt. But i wanted more pain.

He punched me again and the doctors took him back. My mom sighed. I forgot she was here.

"What?" I asked. I was curious as to why she didn't do anything. "Sad the show stopped. You wouldn't of stopped it." I didn't know why I said that. Pms-ing, y'know?

"Honey. I'm sorr-."

"Oh, I'm so sorry! It won't happen again! I'm sorry my poor baby Innie! I'm so sorry that I don't have the guts to stand up to your father. I'm sorry that your life sucks. I'm sorry that I'm a standby mother and that I can't do shit. I'm so sorry! Shut up. You're not sorry. You're pittying me." I didn't mean to snap. I subconsciously started to scratch at the bandages around my arms.

My mom was crying and she left. All that was left was the doctor. She was staring at me with wide eyes. "What?" I asked and he looked away before she write something about bipolar disorder on the computer. I sighed.

"I'm not bipolar." She shook her head.

"That's what you think. You are more different than what you seem to be now." She stopped typing before looking at me.

"Any friends we should call?" Chan. But he would feel bad. Oh well.

"Bangchan. Please?" She nodded.

10 minutes later and Chan was in my room.

"Channie Hyung!" I yelled and he smiled, coming over and hugging me. He looked down at my wrist and his smile dropped.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault. I told you about Felix and I shouldn't have. It's my fault. Fuck me, god. It's my fault." He was crying and I pulled him into a hug. We sat for a few minutes before there was a knock. Hyunjin walked through the door, wearing a warm smile.

"Hey." I waved back slightly. His eyes went straight to my arms. I squirmed and put them under the blanket. "I'm sorry."

"Stop! Stop saying sorry. Everyone that has seen me has said sorry to me and I don't know why. Y'all didn't do anything. Channie Hyung did the right thing to tell me and you didn't do anything. So please, stop." My voice was goin out and it was quiet.

They nodded and sat down next to me. On either side. Hyunjin was a but far away but Chan was holding my hand. I fell asleep, too tired to function.