!!Trigger warning: suicide, Implied/Referenced Self Harm!!
Warnings before sections.
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This book is currently discontinued, if I find motivation to finish it it is not in the foreseeable future.
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"Trust me." His voice was soft and calming, the way that a good father could be assumed to sound. "This isn't what you want, it never has been and it never will be. Confusion is difficult to work through, but if you just let me help you, I can show you that it can be worked through." He rolled up his sleeve, showing several white streaks across his skin.
The other was shocked. "N-no, I'm not good for anything, I'm nothing there's nothing for me." He shook his head many times, holding it in his hands after a bit. "No."
"Can I touch you?" The boy who was trying to help this poor soul had approached a few paces. His voice was now quieter, more soft, and still caring. The boy at the bridge took a moment to think, then nodded his approval. The savior gently took the boy's hands delicately in his own and gently pulled the boy back. Well, less of a pull and more of a gentle suggestion. It worked and the boy stumbled down off of the edge.
The boy started to cry. How could he be so weak that a boy, the same age as him, who seemed to have the same ideas and hatred toward himself as he, could keep him from stepping off?
The other simply gently led him to his vehicle and took out a water bottle out of the backseat. The boy took it and looked at it suspiciously.
"It's untampered, look, it's still sealed."
Upon seeing this, the boy opened it and took a few sips of water.
"Thank you. For the water."
The savior smiled.
"It's nothing much." He shrugged. "Have a phone? If you want I can put my number in and then you'll always be able to tell someone if you're having a pissy day."
Surprisingly enough, the boy agreed.
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They would both be around twenty.
I looked up at Mark, his soft brown eyes stared back in a caring manner. My eyes fell back down to my feet, not wanting to look at Mark in this situation.
"Sean," he whispered, trailing his finger along my jaw line to my chin, lifting it up a bit. His hand gently wrapped around my wrist and pulled it up to our faces. "Please, tell me who gave you these. I've asked you a million times, and I need to know. Please." His voice came out soothing and gentle, but it also held a tone of seriousness.
My eyelids fluttered as I held back my tears, and I looked over towards the bruise covering my left arm. I couldn't tell him. That would get me killed. My parents wouldn't hesitate to kill me.
They've made that clear.
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Sean McLoughlin had a horrid life. From abusive parents to being bullied in school, he felt like he was alone.
But when one day, he accidentally bumps into one of the most well known guy in the whole school, Mark Fischbach, he wasn't expecting his whole life to flip upside down.
All respect to the people this story is about. By me writing this, I do not intend any disrespect to them or their actual relationships.