The Self-Harmed

~The truth is never really the past, now is it?~

"So what are you in for?" I asked.

Owen and I where sitting in the garden. I decided to give this whole listen to Owen thing after all. But the second I got to my emotional capacity with him I was out. I wasn't coming back.

"These." He pulled up his sleeves.

He had more scars. More cuts. A couple of burns. 

"My Mom freaked."

I choked on my air a little as he turned his arms over and I saw the familiar alone carved into his arm.

"Are you okay?"

"Bet there's a story behind that."

"Come on Charlie."

"What?"

"Are we really going to do this?"

"Do what?"

"Pretend like we never met."

I gasped, "We've met before?"

He rolled his eyes.

"You left me remember?"

"And I never should of." He yanked up my sleeve and I tried to yank my arm away.

"Please stop."

"Charlie."

I looked at him.

"Come on. It's me."

 I stared at him for a few seconds and stopped fighting. He was right, it was him, and old habits really do die hard huh?  He looked down at my arm, running a hand over the alone. I gave a little whine as He began to turn my arm over and forced my wrist to stay facing down. He looked at me, and let my arm go. He looked down and picked at his pants. I flipped my arm up and gave it to him. He grabbed onto it and kissed my arm.

"I still think you're beautiful."

I yanked my arm away, pulled down my sleeves, and pulled my legs to my ch\est and looked away from him.

"Things can't go back to the way they were Owen. They just can't." I looked at him again. " I don't trust you anymore."

He nodded, "Can I ask you something."

"What?"

"An eating disorder. Why?"

"You know why."

"Help me understand it."

"How?" I demanded, thumping my hands in the grass. "I don't even understand it myself."

"Do they know how bad it is?"

"What?"

"Do they know how bad it is?" He repeated.

"No." I looked away.

"Charlie, this place is supposed to be helping you get better. From your letters You've gotten worse."

"You don't know me. Not anymoe"

"I don't. But the old you never cut. Never had an eating disorder."

"The old me grew up. The old me never hated my guts."

"Why?" He asked. "Why now?"

"Nothing I say will explain anything to you. This is me now Owen." I set my head down on my arms. "Get used to it."

"I don't want to. I don't like it."

"Okay." I looked at him. "Coming from the one who has slit up and bruised wrists. I don't want to hear it."

There was a ball of light and I smacked it out of my face, crawling back until I was against Owen chest. I reached up to smack again but Owen gabbed my wrist.

"It's okay Charlie. It's just a fire fly."

A couple more came over to join the first. I backed up against Owen, and he put an arm around my collar bone. One of the fire flies had the damn nerve to land on my knee.

"Get it off!"

"It's okay."

He grabbed it and I moved to face him. He opened his hand and the bug crawled around on it.

"See?" Owen asked. "He's harmless."

Owen took my hand and dumped the bug onto my palm. It walked around for a little bit, and then it flew away.

"Come here."

I leaned against him, and suddenly the garden became alive with them.

"It's kind of magical if you think about it."

"We're to old for magic."

"I'm not."