Saving Jess. ~ {boyXboy}

I remember the sting of pain as I slide the blade across my delicate snow white wrists. I remember watching in awe as the dark red substance dripped down my arm and onto to white tiled bathroom floor, staining it an ugly colour. I remember the tingly sensation of his lips sliding over mine sensually, i remember the pain of withdraw and the relief of success. The bitter sweet taste of victory and triumph and accomplishment fading as I realized the weight of what Id just done. The old me is coming back. The past me is becoming the present, but hopefully not my future. I gripped my caramel coloured hair in frustration. I thought I got better, I went, they helped me, they saved me. But now Im back in the pit clawing frustrated, desperately pleading to help me, save me, kiss me, hug me, love me. But somehow i knew, i wasn't meant for a happy ending. I looked at the blade in my hand and the cuts in my wrist, now realizing i spelled words, i Read over and over what they said, not quite understanding my meaning for writing these words on my wrist.

Save Me. Please.

The tears spilled from my icy grey eyes and rolling off my porcelain cheeks, coating my long black eyelashes in salty tears. The tears fell on the words, I hissed at the pain as it stung me.

Who would want to save me? A pathetic, mental case, who can barely keep a blade off his skin. Nobody. That's who.

My name is Jesse O'Rourke and I was about to be painstakingly proven wrong. Because at least one person in the cruel, screwed up world cares enough to save me. The mental patient who can barely keep a blade off his skin.

One person, one mental patient, one screwed up world, and only one type of love.

This is my story.