Another World | ✔️

Chapter Six

Trigger Warnings
Anxiety
Depression
Suicide
Self Harm
Divorce

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"Are you sure you don't want Zoe to give you a ride home? It'll be dark soon."

"I'm sure. I'm fine with walking. Thanks anyway."

"Make sure you text Connor and let us know when you get home, Dear."

"I will. Thank you again for dinner."

As Mom shuts the door, the house gets quiet. I can see Dad giving me a look, and for a moment I think he is going to say something, but he looks back down at his newspaper. I decide to go upstairs before he changes his mind.

"Connor, honey, did you two have a good time?"

I stop at Mom's voice and turn to look over my shoulder at her. "Yeah, it was fine," is all I say. From her smile I can tell that she's happy that I have a friend, and she must hope that nothing will happen to ruin it. I hope so too, more for her sake than my own. I've disappointed her more than she deserves.

I can tell she wants to ask more, but she nods her head in dismissal. Without another word, I turn and head upstairs. I'm glad that when I pass Zoe's room her door is closed. I don't need anymore of her comments about me pushing Evan at lunch. I already feel guilty enough.

Anxiety. Of course he has anxiety. That's why he froze when I spoke to him. He wasn't actually making fun of me, that's just his personality.

I sigh and sit on my bed, pulling out my phone and lying it in front of me. I can't help but think back to the conversation we had. It kills me that I broke down in front of him. Now he knows how weak I am. Now he knows the truth. And it feels like. . . It feels like he understands.

I can't stop thinking about how he panicked when he started talking about his fall in front of my family. He had already told the story to me at school, but he seemed different when he told it this time. He acted as if he was lying and felt guilty for doing so. I wonder still if there is more to the story.

What really gets me is why he climbed the tree in the first place. When he told me he said he just saw the tree and decided to start climbing. Who does that? Who climbs a tree without a reason? It's just not normal.

I couldn't find the strength to ask him today, but maybe someday I will be able to. If he is willing to try and help me, maybe I should be willing to do the same for him. That's what friends do, right? And he wants to be friends.

Ding.

I look down and see a notification on the screen of my phone; a text from Evan.

You can tell your mom that
I made it home.

Okay. I'll tell her.
Thanks by the way.

Oh. It's nothing.
Thanks for helping me calm
down. I should've warned
you that might happen.
I guess I've never had to
worry about telling
anyone.

Don't worry about it.
I know my family can be
a bit much. Maybe next
time we could try your
place? If that's okay?

Yeah.
My mom is never
really home though so
dinner probably won't
be too nice.

Doesn't matter. Not big
on family dinners anyway.
What about your dad?

Oh um.
My dad lives in
Colorado. I haven't seen
him since I was seven.

Shoot.

Now I've messed up. I'm sure that I've probably said the wrong thing, but how was I supposed to know? Sure, my parents fight, but they still love each other. I could never see them separating.

I'm sorry.

You didn't know.
It's fine.
It's nice really. It's just
me and Mom.
Really quiet.

That must be nice.
It's rarely quiet here.
I always try to take a nap
before Dad gets home or
I might not sleep.

There's a pause in messages and thoughts immediately start spiraling through my mind. Have I done something? Have I messed up already?

Are you busy Friday?

No.
Why?

You can come then if you
want. Mom has class after
work so I'm sure she won't
care.

Okay.
I'll talk to Mom and
Dad about it if you're
sure you want me
over.

I wouldn't offer if I
didn't.
I'll give you directions
closer 'til.

Sounds like a plan.

Mom wants me to call her.
Ttyl?

Yeah.
See you at school.

I sigh and click off of the texts, laying back on my bed. I almost forget to let Mom know that he made it home. Too lazy to get back up, I click my phone back to text and send her a quick message. Cheesy as she is, she replies with a thumbs up emoji.

My thoughts float back to our conversation once again. I have to find a way to help him. If what I believe is true than he's just as bad off as I am. Maybe worse with the added anxiety.

I peel away a bandaid on my wrist and examine the cut below. It's a scar now, really, but it's better to make sure it's hidden. Especially at home. Maybe. . . Maybe helping him would help me. Just maybe. . .