To my three Buskateers; Ruffage, Kerrdude and Mizzdude.
To Menna, my always caring friend.
Some people would say I’m crazy. Come to think of it, quite a lot of people would say I’m crazy. A serious mental disorder, if you like. But I’m not crazy and I don’t have a screw loose up there. I just have a certain illness, and I know it’s all between my ears, but it can be treated. Not with medicines, however. This illness needs more than a few painkillers. My illness needs more help from outside. I’m getting help now, talking to friends helps, but there was a time when I didn’t, and refused to tell anyone about it. I kept it well hidden underneath my clothes. And honestly, I don’t think anyone would’ve noticed if I hadn’t told them about it. And that left its scars… literally.
Let’s go two years back, back when I was sixteen and quite a vulnerable girl. You could say that I was in the critical stage of my life. I’d say that my life was as hell, and that the Devil himself swung the sceptre. I thought my life couldn’t get worse. Looking back though, it wasn’t that bad, it was good even. But I, as a foolish young girl, didn’t see that and thought that my parents only put me on this earth to torture me. I thought they hated me and they always compared me to my older sister, who was studying laws in college.
I did have one thing to look forwards to at the time; I had this major thing for this band called Busted, and they would do a signing nearby. Mum knew this was the most important thing in my life, and let me tag along with my mates.
But I should’ve known it was too good to be true; only a couple of days later I got a letter from school, saying when my exams took place. And yes, right, SURE I had an exam on the day they did the signing. Then I noticed that the signing was actually starting thirty minutes after the exam, and my school was even closer to the shop where they would be signing than my house was. Mum found out, and didn’t want me to go anymore, because I had revising to do. I begged for over two hours, until she got enough of me and sent me up to my room without my dinner.
I did what I always did when I got angry, or emotionally stressed; I grabbed a well hidden in the night cabinet, sharp piece of glass and cut my lower arms more than a couple of times. Red drops of blood were making their way through the bare flesh, then slowly dribbling down to my wrist, and rolling down over my hand where it left my skin and fell on the towel I had put on my legs and knees. I stopped cutting while breathing heavily when I couldn’t see any bare skin anymore.
I checked if someone was coming up the stairs or some other way I could get caught, before I sneaked to the bathroom to wash off the blood. It pricked a little, but I didn’t mind and went back to my room where I put on my PJs and got in bed to fall asleep with a satisfied feeling.
The next two weeks that had followed, had went slow. Like, I mean, really slow. Every minute was like an hour, an hour was like a day, a day was like a month, and I could go on forever like this. But the day was there, and I had it all planned out. When I’d finished my exam, I would sneak out and get in line for the signing happening. And that was exactly what I did, with my schoolbag on my back and my precious Busted album holding in my hands, I stepped in line. Just a couple of girls were in front of me, apparently I was early. I took a glance at my watch; the signing would start at 3.30, and it was now 3pm. I was surprised that there was only like, twenty of us when fifteen minutes had passed by, but when it was exactly 3.30, girls started screaming, and came running down the road with schoolbags on their backs, that bounced along with the rhythm of their jumping. The screaming got louder, and in a reflex, I held my hands in front of my ears, so my drums wouldn’t get shattered. Finally, the doors opened and everyone pushed each other in at the same time, which caused a few girls to faint and getting stamped by other girls. I had no idea that so many people were gonna show up for this. Although I got pushed out of the way, and nearly fell when a girl pushed me so hard in the back, I managed to stay up my feet and nearly got to be the first to meet my true idols. When I looked over my shoulder, I couldn’t believe my own eyes; the end of the queue was not even in my eyesight, and I had a pretty good view from where I was stood. The shop was full of people, and it occurred to me that it was pretty warm in there. Not just warm, it was rather hot, steaming more likely. I pulled off the sweater I was wearing and tied it around my waist, strolling up the sleeves of my shirt unconsciously, and gasped for air. I was still holding the album in my hands, and it was nearly glued into my grip. Tiny drops of sweat glistered on my forehead, wiping them away with the back of my hand. Another gasp for air, my view got blurred for a second.
“Miss, are you okay?” I heard a voice ask. A big man stood in front of me, it was almost my turn to get autographs from the boys. I nodded to the man, and smiled.
“Yes, I’m okay, thanks. It’s just a little hot in here.” The man nodded to me as if he wanted to say ‘I know’ and gave a fake, weak smile that made him look even uglier than he already was. As I turned my head to see when it was my turn, I got pushed and I was stood right in front of Charlie Simpson. My hands started to shake and I reached out the CD.
“Hey there, what’s your name?” He smiled cutely at me and got his marker pen on the plastic.
“Susan,” I got out and he pulled the sleeve out of its box.
“There you go, Susan. You feeling ok?” He asked worriedly, and I nodded my head, thanked him, took the sleeve and the box, and shuffled a few inches to the left of the table. A guy with a huge grin spread upon his face looked at me.
“Hello… …Susan,” Matt read off the sleeve and gave me another smile as he signed it. He gave me the sleeve and box, covered in drawings and autographs and I once again shuffled a few inches to the left of the table to face the last boy of the threesome. I strolled up my sleeves again, and as I did, I handed James the little plastic box and the sleeve. He didn’t look at me at first, he inspected my arm before looking up at me. When I saw what he was looking at, it was already too late. He gave me a weird look, and put his marker pen on the sleeve.
“How comes you’ve got scars on your arms, love?” He asked me, while not even facing me. He drew this cute little stick man on an empty bit of space of the plastic box, then signed the sleeve. I bit my lower lip and tried to think of an answer, a lie.
“I-…I don’t know.” I stammered, and waited impatiently for James to give me my stuff back. He looked up at me and pulled up an eyebrow. “I think you do,” He rested back in his chair, not planning on giving my stuff back before I had given him a reason that he would believe.
“No, I don’t. Can I please have my stuff back now?” I was desperate, I wasn’t going to tell him anything. I didn’t even know him for one instance and he was getting personal. He didn’t have the right to know what I had been doing to myself. James sighed deeply, lent in forwards and signalled me to come a little closer.
“Look, I’m not stupid. You shouldn’t be doing that, you know. You could get infections and stuff like that.” I frowned, James squeezed my hand for a short moment, then gave me the box with the sleeve in it back. James smiled at me, waved and turned to the next fan. With mixed feelings I walked out of the shop with the box still in my hands. I decided that I’d put it in my bag, mum would kill me if she’d find out that I’d gone to the signing.
When I got home and told my mum that I was getting hold up by my science teacher as an excuse for being late, I went to my room and lay on my back on the bed. Several different Busted posters were staring at me, and I had the odd feeling that James was watching me with every breath I took. I quickly shook that thought out of my head; it were only posters. But how did he know? Maybe my father hit me, accident at school, being bullied? How the devil did he know? I had to admit, the ‘I don’t know’ answer was quite stupid, it showed that I had something to hide. And he knew, but how? After ten minutes of thinking through every possible answer, it drove me nuts and I tried to focus myself on something else. Revising should do the trick, and I grabbed my schoolbag to get some books out. Along with a few pens and tippex, the little see-through plastic box with three young lads, covered with black marker pen, smiled at me. It occurred to me that I didn’t even know how they’d raped the sleeve. I took it out for a better look, flicking from page to page.
‘Dear Susan,’ – Charlie, and his autograph.
‘Have a nice day,’ – Matt and his autograph.
‘And we’ll see you soon,’ – James, and his autograph underneath. Taking a look on the box, it showed failed skateboard drawings and guitars, with in the middle the Busted logo. I quickly flicked through the rest of the sleeve, when a little note fell out. It hadn’t been in there before, for sure. I curiously opened the note, and recognised James’ handwriting.
‘Pls call when u need sum1 2 tlk 2, James xxx’ and a mobile number. I hadn’t seen him writing this. Did he want me to drive myself nuts with all these questions shooting through my brain or something? Not sure what to do, I folded the note two times and shoved it under the alarm clock.
In the three days that followed, the questions kept on spinning through my mind. I’d stopped constantly listening to Busted and even took some posters down the wall. Every little thing that reminded me of Busted, of James, drove me insane. I could still picture his face in my head when he’d looked at my arm and asked me that painful question, ‘How comes you’ve got scars on your arms, love?’ Basically, it was none of his business, but the way he’d looked at me, told me he cared. Though he only knew my name from reading it off the sleeve thing. And I was pretty sure he wouldn’t just give out his mobile number to everyone that came along the table.
I got the first results back on Monday. They were pretty good, a C and two Bs, though I hadn’t revised that much. But it made my day, and with the biggest smile on my face, I took the bus home, and my day was broken again when I saw my mum standing in the hallway, waiting for me, with the plastic box between two fingers.
“I thought I’d told you that you couldn’t go to the signing?” She reached out her hand and pressed the box to my chest. “I believe this is yours.” She concluded and turned on her heels to walk away.
“I’m so sorry, mum. But this was a once in a lifetime chance.” She turned to face me, I could practically see the steam coming from her ears.
“You’re sorry? I don’t bloody care if it was a once in a lifetime chance, if it would’ve saved your life for all I care! I’d told you not to go and you ignored it! Go to your room before I get physical on you.” She hissed and pushed me to the hallway so I could go upstairs.
When I entered my room, I let everything go. Anger rose up inside me, along with guilt and hate. She wouldn’t let me go to the most important happening of my life. She’d told me not to go, and I went. And it was all Busted’s fault. I threw the box with all my strength to the wall, where it smashed into pieces.
“I hate you!” I screamed, and collapsed on the floor, crying as loud as I could. I heard the front door slamming shut and an engine running; my mother was angry as well, and escaped from the house again. Without even thinking, I pulled open a drawer in the night cabinet and searched for the piece of glass. I cut myself with the searching, but didn’t care and strolled my sleeves up. I stood on my feet as I quickly, but with strength, pulled the glass through the scars and scabs. I worked from the inside of my elbow down towards my wrist, pressing the glass harder with every cut I made. The tears blurred my vision, and I tried to dry my tears with the back of my hand, dangerously close to the cuts and the dripping blood. I felt my stomach turn and an overwhelming feeling of dizziness. I tried to grab something to hold on to, while my knees protested to keep me up, and pulled over the night cabinet, letting the alarm clock fall in several parts and pieces, and the light getting knocked over.
A few minutes passed and I tried to get on my feet again. When this was not working, I got hold of the night cabinet and pulled myself up, letting my eye fall on a half unfolded piece of paper on the floor. I reached out for it, smearing blood on everything while I did.
‘Pls call when u need sum1 2 tlk 2, James xxx’ and then the mobile number again. With a shaking hand, I took the phone of its hook; I needed help, right now. I carefully dialled the number and let it ring.
“Y’ello?” A voice came. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“Hello? Who’s this?” The voice paused for a second or two. “Susan, is that you?”
I let out a sigh of relief, that probably sounded more like someone heavily breathing down the phone.
“Yes, it’s me. I need your help, now.” I said urgently, my voice trembled.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Again the voice paused. “Bloody hell! Where do you live? I’ll come straight away.” With a still trembling voice, I gave him my address and decided to go sit and wait on the stairs for him to arrive. Thinking it would probably take a while before James got at my house, I made myself comfortable on the stairs. I laid my head on the fifth step and pulled my knees up onto the third and tried to avoid any sight of my bloody arm. I felt calm again; the anger, guilt and hate had slipped away with the blood. My eyelids got heavy and I closed them to let this calm feeling stay as long as it could.
My mind drifted off to dreamland, and I was nearly really sleeping when the doorbell rang. Languid and dragging my feet off the stairs and down to the door, I saw James looking around and bouncing on his feet when I looked through the little window in the door. Slowly I pressed the handle downwards and opened the door with dreamingly eyes. His eyes immediately turned to me and my arms, and looking as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Oh my God,” He whispered under his breath and let himself in, closing the door behind him. “Where’s the kitchen?” He asked, grabbing the wrist of my left arm that wasn’t covered in blood. I led him through a door and walked slowly to the kitchen. He sat me down on a chair, and started opening several cupboards to search for a towel. When he’d found one, he drained it with warm water and sat opposite of me on another chair and gently started rubbing the blood off. He didn’t ask anything, he didn’t say anything. His look was fixated on my arm and the cuts. He occasionally blinked and a quick look up to me, before continuing rubbing. I bit my lower lip, as it was getting to hurt when he scrubbed the top layer of blood off.
“Where’s your mum?” He asked me, without looking at me in the eye.
“She went off angry after we had a row.” I slowly said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. James stood up from his chair and put the towel on the kitchen sink, and started looking around again.
“Drawer under the sink.” I said, he looked at me and smiled weakly, before opening the drawer and getting the bandages out.
Slowly, he put the bandage around my lower arm, without saying a word. Then he sat back and looked at the result, his head a little to the side.
“Why did you give me-” I started, but I got cut off.
“No questions, I’m just here to help.” He fiddled with his fingers for a bit, and looked at me. “I’m not asking you anything either, am I?” I shook my head as an answer. He put one hand out, raising it to my face and stroking my cheek. Then he lend in forwards, his face only a few inches away from mine.
“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” James quickly backed away and stood up. My mum had come in the kitchen, she looked more calm now, but I was sure that if I would say anything stupid now, I would pay for it later. James turned around to see who was there.
“Oh, you are that guy Susan has loads of posters of, aren’t you?” James looked at me.
“Am I?” I blushed, he looked back to my mum. “Well, I guess I am then. James.” He shook my mum’s hand and smiled.
“I think you’d better leave now, James.” My mum said and led him to the front door. He looked over his shoulder and winked at me, before stepping outside and out of my view. I pulled my sleeve down, in the hope that mum hadn’t seen the bandage already.
“What were you thinking, getting strangers inside the house when I’m not home?” Mum shouted at me. I decided not to say anything and to just go upstairs and to my room.
Friday and the weekend were like hell; mum ignored me the whole time and was obviously still angry about the signing thing and James in the house. I felt miserable, and had locked myself up in my room, and only went downstairs for food when mum wasn’t home. On Sunday, just before dinner time, I started to pack my bags; I was spending the next week at my dad’s house. My parents divorced when I was eleven and every two weeks I would stay over at my dad’s. I hadn’t been there in four months, my dad had been away on business trip and his girlfriend, Jenny, had went with him. I liked Jenny, she wasn’t a real mum to me, more like a really good friend, and the relationship with my dad wasn’t bad either.
Without saying a word to each other, mum dropped me off at dad’s place; a big apartment in the middle of London. Jenny opened the door and welcomed me with a big hug. I didn’t even look over my shoulder, but closed the door and put my bag under the hat stand.
“It’s so good to see you again, Susan!” Jenny said, and practically bounced to the kitchen where my dad was cooking. I gave him a peck on his cheek as a greeting.
“Hey Suzie.” He said with a grin on his face. He knew I hated it when he called me Suzie. Jenny grabbed my hand and my bag from under the hat stand and brought me to my room. She closed the door behind her, and her happy face immediately went serious. She threw the bag onto the bed, sat on the edge herself, and tapped next to her. I sat next to her, and she put an arm around my shoulder.
“You’ve lost weight in the past few months, haven’t you?” She rubbed my tummy and felt my ribs. “Yep, you’ve lost weight.” She concluded. “Something wrong at home, Susan?” I bit my lower lip, thinking whether I should tell her or not. We’d always shared our secrets with each other, and she knew every thing about me. She was my best friend.
“No, it’s just me being silly.” Jenny let out a sigh and rolled her eyes. “Just tell me, maybe I can help. I know you’re hiding something from me.” I scratched my arm, and strolled up the sleeve. Jenny’s hands shot to my arm and felt the bandage.
“What did you do there, honey?” I decided to keep my mouth shut, and gently got the bandage off. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head as soon as she saw the cuts and broses. Dried blood stuck to the bandage and my arm.
“Who did that to you?” She stammered, and swallowed the lump in her throat. I looked her in the eye and a single tear trickled down my cheek.
“I did.” After that, everything came out. I told her everything, from the first time I’d injured myself to the last time I did and when James had come round the house. Jenny had listened carefully, and nodded occasionally, her hand on my shoulder as a sign of caring.
“Well,” she concluded. “You can always come round here, when you need someone to talk to. No need to get celebrities involved.” She added, grinning. I felt relieved that I’d told her, and it seemed like I could fight the whole world at the same time. Jenny hugged me tight, and pulled my sleeve down.
“It’s better that your dad doesn’t know of this. He’d only get angry and blame your mum.”
“I already know, and it is her mother’s fault. She should’ve taken more care of my kid.” Dad was stood in the doorway, with his arms folded. Jenny gasped and grabbed my hand unconsciously. He turned around, and walked out of the room. Jenny and I sat in silent on the bed, while we heard dad talking in the other room. Soon whispers turned into shouting, I heard my dad starting to cry and slamming the phone down onto its hook. He hurried past my room, got his jacket on and shut the door with a bash.
“I think he’s going to go round your mum’s house.” Jenny whispered. “Looks like we’ve got to take care of ourselves today.” She smiled and walked out of the room. Her head poked round. “Are you coming or what? I’m starving.” I smiled weakly and noticed that I too was hungry.
The best thing of staying over at my dad’s, was that I could go to bed whenever I wanted. Baring in mind that I had to go to school the next day, Jenny and I only watched a DVD, before going to bed. Jenny would take me shopping the next day after school in the heart of London. She said that she’d found some new shops and that they had really nice stuff there, so that we’d go and check them out.
Dad picked me up from school on Monday, getting jealous eyes from the lads because dad had this really cool car, seeing as he had his own law firm. Dad drove an Aston Martin DB7 Vantage Volante convertible, with radio, cassette and CD player and 6 speakers, electric top and a central locking remote control. Yes, I was pretty proud of it, and this beauty was going to pick me up! I got in the car as gracefully as possible and dropped my bag on the back seat.
Jenny was already waiting for me with her little hand bag in her hand when dad stopped at the apartment building. Jenny got in the car and dad speeded away, to drop us off right in front of a expensive shop.
“Will pick you up here at 4.” Jenny nodded and swung her little, cute bag back and forth when we walked down the street.
After an hour of shopping, we went to grab some food at Kentucky Fried Chicken.
“When are you and dad going to get married?” I bluntly said and took another bite out of the fried chicken. “Depends on when he’s going to ask me.” Jenny answered with a slight blush on her powdered cheeks. She got her hair out of the ponytail and ran her fingers through the long, dark brown, curly locks.
“You’d make a pretty bride.” I said, and observed her face carefully. She really looked pretty; her cheekbones were high, her little pointy nose looked cute under her big green eyes and her hair was just the finishing touch of her hour-glass figure.
“You’d make a beautiful bride too, you know. If you had a boyfriend to marry to anyway.” She winked at me, and I blushed. Her eyes lit up. “Oh, so there is a boyfriend?” I looked away from her gaze. “No, there isn’t.” I bit my lip, trying to hide the smile. “But you’re fancying someone, aren’t ya?” I looked down, and suddenly found the fried chicken very interesting. “Oh, come one Suze. You know you can tell me anything.” She got hold of my hand and gave a thoughtful squeeze. I smiled weakly. “Well, there is this guy… …and I like him a lot. He helped me out with homework at school once.” I sat back into my chair. “He’s really cute. He has brown longish hair and green eyes. He’s got these really soft hands and-” Jenny cut me off right there.
“You know what his hands feel like?” She asked with having a gaze on me. I felt the blood pumping to my head and nodded quietly. “Oh, well. He sounds cute to me. And if you know what his hands feel like, I mean, he touched you. So that probably means that he likes you as well.” She said with a cheeky grin. “I don’t think he does. He only helped me out once. Nothing happened. He’d get every girl he wanted anyway. Why pick me then?” I sighed and slumped even more into the chair.
“You’re a nice and pretty girl.” Jenny looked around. “Come on, let’s continue shopping. Maybe we can get our hands on something to impress mystery boy with.” She winked at me, picking up her tiny bag and dragging me out of KFC.
We were happily chatting when I saw someone out of the corner of my eye suddenly stopping in his tracks and bumping straight into Jenny. He looked down, his cap was hiding his face and he quickly put his hands in his pockets.
“Watch where you’re going, handsome.” Jenny said with an irritated tone.
“Sorry, Miss.” My heart skipped a beat, I recognised that voice.
“James?” I tried to look under his cap, to see if I was right. His big, blue sparkly eyes stared at me. He smiled and looked up so I could see his whole face. Jenny was obviously confused.
“You know him?” She asked curiously, then the penny dropped and she gave a cheeky grin. “Ok, I get it.” She added, with a giggle. I felt my cheeks getting red and I smiled embarrassed.
“Hey Susan.” James whispered. His eyes rolled to Jenny a second, then gave me a questioning look.
“Oh, right. James, this is Jenny, dad’s girlfriend. Jenny, James.” I introduced them to each other.
“Hey, so you’re Susan’s fri-” I elbowed Jenny between her ribs, then smiled as if nothing had happened.
“I better be going, was in quite a rush. Was nice meeting you, Jenny. See you later, Susan.” He gave a final smile and walked off in the different direction that we had to go.
“Was he the guy that helped you out with your accident a few days ago?” I nodded, Jenny probably hated to use the actual word, ‘cut’. “He certainly looks cute. How old is he? Seventeen or something?” I blushed and looked down to see myself taking steps on the street. “No, he’s twenty.” I answered and looked up to Jenny, to see the corners of her mouth curling into a grin.
A few days passed. I was still at my dad’s place, but this time not alone. My crush, David, was doing maths homework with me. I think he only asked me so he could sit in my dad’s car, but oh well. I was allowed to stare into his beautiful green eyes now.
I was explaining David something, when Jenny came walking in the room with the phone in her hand.
“For you,” She said and winked at David, who instantly blushed. I took the phone from her and brought it up to my ear.
“Hello?” I said with a smile, watching David trying to figure out something by himself. He looked so cute when he was concentrating.
“Hey, it’s James.” My heart skipped a beat and my expression went blanc.
“Something wrong, Suze?” David asked worriedly and stood up when he heard me gasping for breath.
“Susan, you still there?” James asked.
“Yes, I’m still here. How did you get this number?” I asked him. I certainly didn’t give him it.
“Re-dialled the other day to your mum’s house and she told me to phone to this number.” Made sense to me. David was still standing next to me.
“Susan, who is that? What does he want?” I looked at David, who was about to get the phone out of my hands.
“David, shh!” I said and put two fingers on his lips.. he gave me hurt look and flopped down onto the bed.
“Is that your boyfriend in the background?” James asked.
“No, just a friend. Doing homework.” A giggle. “ For real, James!” I saw David pulling up and eyebrow, he was now lying on his back with his hands under his head. Then he gave a cheeky grin and stood up, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Ok, ok. I believe you. Was just phoning to ask if you were alright.” James continued.
“Yes, I’m alright. Bloody hell! David, get your hands off me!” I screamed. David’s hands had slid under my top and he was softly kissing my neck. I may have a crush on him, but this was going a bit too fast.
“Sorry!” David shouted. “Can I help it that boyfriends do stuff like that!” What the fuck? What was he trying to do?
“Thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend?” James asked confused.
“Yeah, he isn’t, stupid dick he is. Anyhow, you ok?”
“Hmm, could be better.”
“Oh?”
“You free tonight?”
“What? Yes but-”
“I’ll bring you home in time, promise.”
“Ok, but-”
“Know where you live. Love your mum.”
“Ok.”
“Nine ok for you?”
“Yes, but-”
“Don’t wanna hear no but’s. See ya tonight.”
“Ok, bye.” And he hung up on me. I turned to David, who was now basically pissing me off by that time.
“What did you do that for?” David shrugged,
“I don’t know. Just felt like doing that.” David explained and shrugged once more. “You don’t like it when I do that?” Well, he was my crush, and I’d always dreamt of him doing something like that. But it was scaring that he did it for real now. I thought for a moment like this, before giving him my final answer.
“No, I don’t really mind.” David gave me weak smile and gave me a light kiss on my lips.
“You mind if I do that?” He asked. I didn’t mind, not at all. This is what I’ve wanted since the first day I met him. So I shook my head and kissed him back passionately.
I didn’t know where James was taking me, so I didn’t dress up. Only tied my hair back in a ponytail and applied some extra make-up.
James arrived at the apartment at five past nine. He looked nice, for someone who was going to stay home for the rest of the evening, that is. So quite casual, but cute. Without saying a word, he pulled me out of the apartment and into his car.
“Where are we going anyway?” I asked curiously. James shook his head and looked at me from the corner of his eye.
“You’ll see when we get there.” He concentrated on the road again. “Who was that David boy by the way?” His voice raised a bit.
“Just someone from my school…” I said. “…we kissed after you hung up the phone.” I added, not quite sure if it was a good idea to tell him this.
“Oh,” James murmured under his breath. “You screamed so loudly on the phone, I thought he was raping you or something.” He sniggered. For a moment I’d thought he was jealous. But the way he responded was actually positive. Like a good friend being happy for me.
James stopped the car in front of a small, normal looking house.
“Where are we?” I asked him, dying to know what he planning on doing.
“You’ll see.” He replied. Why was he being so mysterious? James pressed the doorbell, and a girl opened the door. James and the girl hugged for a small moment.
“Susan, this is Beth. Beth, Susan.” James said. I shook the girl’s hand. She smiled at me and let us in the house. She sat us down on a large, green couch. She offered us cookies, that I took gratefully.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Beth asked us both. I asked for a glass of water, James got a large glass of coke.
“Do you know what you’re here for?” She asked me, I shook my head and gave a quick look at James, who only smiled.
“Well, James here, told me that you have a small problem.” I looked at her, with a questioning look on my face. “You have a problem with yourself, and with whatever you hurt yourself with.” My jaw dropped to the floor. I couldn’t believe that James told this girl what I’d been doing to myself. It was nice of him to help me, but this was personal. He’d brought me to a bloody shrink!
“I only want to tell you my own story, Susan. You’re not here so I can give you a lecture or something.” I pulled up an eyebrow. “When I was your age, I did the same thing. I never told anyone. Until my friend, James, found out and I had to tell him everything. He helped me, with everything. Every time I’d done it again, he would come over and take care of the cuts. But one day, I cut myself so badly, on my wrists and was bleeding so heavy, that I had to be taken into hospital. It was a very close call. If James hadn’t been there that day, I would’ve been dead now.” James helped this girl? No wonder he recognised the cuts on my arm.
“Listen Susan,” James said and I turned to face him. “I can’t be there every time you injure yourself. It’s not that I don’t want to, because in the short period of time, I’ve been starting to care about you, but I’ve got a very busy life.” I nodded and took it all in. “I thought that maybe if I brought you to Beth, you’d see sense.” A tear rolled down my cheek. No one had ever done something like that for me. James removed the tear from my cheek onto his index finger, and gave me smile.
“Thanks Beth, but we must be going now.” James said and gave Beth another hug. Beth hugged me as well and we left the house.
James brought me home in silence. Only a small peck on my cheek when we arrived back home.
“Hope it helped you.” James said when his lips had removed from my cheek. I smiled.
“I think it did, thank you.” He grabbed my hand and I gave him a kiss on his cheek in return. He squeezed my hand tightly, then let go and turned on his heels back to his car.
“Hope everything works out right between you and David.” He shouted, before getting in. I waved and smiled, tears trickling down my cheeks from happiness.
Never heard anything from James since that day. I honestly think he was my guardian angel. I told David everything when we were dating for about a year and a half. He didn’t take it very well, and broke up with me the second I finished talking. It hurt at that moment, when he walked out the door. But weirdly enough, I received a letter from James the day after, telling me that he was thinking about me and hoped I was doing ok. Well, I was doing ok. I was doing great, more likely. Other than the break-up with David, I was doing great. I never touched anything sharp to injure myself with since the day James had brought me to Beth. I wrote him a long letter back, saying I was fine, and that I missed his presence sometimes. Along with the letter he sent me back as a respond to mine, were two VIP tickets for the concert they are doing tomorrow. I can’t wait to see him again. It will be great.