Don't Tell

Chapter 3: These Words Are Knives That Often Leave Scars

Patrick's pov

I'm sitting in my room. Knowing me, I'm just sitting here, cutting away all my feelings. Letting them pour out as blood, because I can't let them out any other way.

What is wrong with me? Why do I let them get to me?

Because they're right.

Get out of my head!

It won't though. It won't get out of my head. They say that I'm fat. They say that I'm stupid, untalented, that Fall Out Boy would be better off without me. I'm starting to believe them.

I heard a knock on my door. "Patrick? Patrick can I talk to you?" It was Carly.

I gulped and rolled down my sleeve. I hid my razors and opened the door.

"Hey," She smiled. She was crying. Why?

"Hey... What's up?"

"I really need to tell you something,"

"Come in..."

She walked in and plopped on the bed. She looked down.

"Carly, what's wrong?" I asked. I sounded more concerned than intended.

"Don't hate me..."

"Carly. What did you do?" Damn it. She can't know. She can't know I like her.

She rolled up her sleeve and removed her bracelets.

I gasped. On her wrists were several cutting marks, some old some new.

"I don't want to tell Andy. He'd be crushed."

"Carly, he cares about you. he wouldn't be crushed. He would if you kept it from him. He would if he lost you."

"So, you're saying I should tell him."

"Yeah,"

"Okay,"

"Oh, Carly?" I called as she walked out.

"Yeah?"

I rolled up my sleeve. "I can relate. Try to talk to me more. It kinda helps."

"Sure thing, little man."

I smiled as she left.

Andys pov

Carly walked in. I was the only one out here. Joe and Pete were in their rooms.

She looked upset. Her head was hanging low. Her brown bangs dropped over her face.

She shifted over and sat by me. "Please don't hate me."

"Why would I hate you?"

"Because of what I do... to myself."

Worry struck through me at her words. "What did you do?"

"Andy... I... I cut." She pulled up her sleeve, exposing several scars. Some looked fairly fresh.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was afraid."

"Don't be scared to tell someone. I'm here. Patrick, Pete, and Joe are here for you too."

"Okay..."

"When did you last... You know..." Tears were threatening to fall now.

"Last night. When you were all asleep."

I grabbed her hand and she winced as I examined her wrist.

"You know I love you, right?"

"Yes,"

I pulled her into a large hug. "You don't have to go through this alone.we are all here for you. Especially me and Patrick. You know he fights depression. I think you two could benefit from talking to each other. And me... I think I love you too much for my own good."

"You told me you loved me like three times in this conversation."

"And I meant it every time."