Tears, Secrets, and a Razor Blade.
All I Want
•Franks P.O.V•
After I kissed the top of her head, she laid her head down on my chest. She curled up against me, eyes closed, still letting out a steady stream of tears. I put my arm around her, slowly rubbing her back. Her breathing started to even out. Eventually, she fell asleep. I looked down at her face. It was still sticky from tears. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were parted. I could feel her hot breath on my neck from the parting. She started to move, and her arm made it’s way up my waist till it laid across my chest at an angle, her hand right next to her mouth. She was completely adorable. Her hair slipped and small strands ran over her eyes and nose, and stopped just above her mouth. Her exhale made the strands fly up in the air just a little. Her make-up looked like smoke clouding her eyes, and her mascara had made dark, waxy looking streaks down her face. Her lips looked so soft under her lip ring. She looked so beautiful. Like she didn’t have a care in the world. As if she didn’t have the weight of the world on her delicate little shoulders, and that she doesn’t have words of pain and anguish carved onto her tiny thighs and wrist. I felt tears forming on the edge of my tired eyes. I lifted my arm off of her to wipe it away. She made a soft whimper and her long, black eyelashes began to flutter. She’s so cute. She opened her eyes, still squinting at the lighting change of the room. I guess she had a sudden realization as to what was happening. When she looked up and saw my face, her eyes widened and she shot up, hands still on my chest. “Wha-what…” she began to stammer. She was shaking again. “What happened?” She asked, voice trembling. “Shh-sh, it’s okay. Everything is okay. You were crying, remember?” I asked. Her looked softened, but her eyes widened again. “I-I cried myself to sleep in you arms?” She asked, seemingly angry. I didn’t really know how to respond. “U-uh… y-yeah.” I said. Once again, tears were forming in her eyes. “I-uh-I’m sorry! What’s wrong?!” I asked frantically. She stood up in the bed. I could clearly see all her scars. She jumped off and ran out of the room. She slammed the door behind her, leaving me awkwardly trembling in her bed alone. I lied there a few minutes before flipping the covers off me and slowly getting out of the bed. I looked around her room. Medium gray walls covered by various band posters, many I liked. {Panic! at the Disco, Pierce the Veil, The Used, A Day to Remember… Eventually, I stopped reading all the band posters. I ran into the hallway/balcony thing. It overlooked the living room, and there was a room at each end, and one on the center where Charlotte’s room was. I started looking around. I heard her sobbing in one of the rooms at the end of the hallway/balcony thing. I went up to the door, and knocked slowly. Her crying stopped, and everything was silent. I couldn’t even hear her breathe. “I’m coming in.” I said and I opened the door. She was siting on the floor. She had her arms wrapped loosely, her knees wet from tears. She was rocking back and fourth furiously. I stumbled over to her, sitting down next to her on the bathroom floor. There was a little blade on the linoleum under her long folded legs. I snatched the blade up and held it in the air. I twisted her head to face me, and stared into her eyes. Her adorable, seafoam green eyes with large black pupils.} She really was an attractive girl. But, she was more than just pretty. She was captivating. But she was incredibly skinny. It kind of worries me.
We sat there in awful silence for a long time. Finally, she started to talk. “I…” she stopped herself for a second. “I don’t know.” she said. “What?” I asked confused. She shook her head and replied “I just don’t know. What time is it?” she asked. Confused and token off-guard by the random question, I checked my phone. 5:27 “It’s about 5:30.” I said. “Why?” I asked. She looked up at me. “I…I think you should go.”
•Charlotte’s P.O.V•
"I…I think you should go." So many things were racing through my head. What just happened? Frank looked hurt. He was shaking a little as he got up to his feet. He stood there a second, looking at me. He walked over to the door, looking back at me before he slammed it shut. I heard him racing down the steps. I crawled over to the window. As I looked out, I saw him standing at my doorstep, wiping his eyes. I don’t want to get hurt. I’m sorry. I trembled at the sight if him so sad, and before I could comprehend it, he ran as fast as he could down the street. I stared, crying, as he disappeared behind the endless row of identical houses.
•Frank’s P.O.V•
I don’t understand. Why…why did she do that? I wiped away the tears, then jumped away from her doorstep. I feel like running. I just want to run away from… from all of this. What even is this? A relationship I made up in my head with a seemingly happy go-lucky girl I just met. But right now, she’s the only thing I can think about. Why? Is it because this depressed, gorgeous, secretly self-harming girl is so…vulnerable. It makes me just want to hold her and never let go. I just want her to know someone cares. I want to be that someone who cares.
I finally stopped running to catch my breath. I plugged in my earphones and escaped into a world of meaningful lyrics. “Yeah Boy and Doll Face” began blasting into my ears. ‘And she could make hell feel just like home! So I’m never leaving her alone. But if you’re lightning lips aren’t mine, then I don’t know the awkward stranger to my right (but she’s crying)’ by the last three words, I was in goosebumps and tears. That girl. I left Charlotte, that poor girl, in tears on the bathroom floor, razor blade in hand. Why did I leave? I looked around. I turned around in search of the way I came. I started running back. Her house was easy to find. It was the biggest house there, and it was gray with a bright red door. Also, I left my car in the driveway. I ran inside without knocking, knowing it would be useless. I ran upstairs. The silence was terrifying. I would’ve been happier to hear her crying, but silence… My fears got the best of me and I busted open the door. She was lying in the shower floor, her clothes still on, but soaked. She was shaking and crying intensely, but was making no noise. Her breaths were coming out short and choppy. Her long legs were tangled in a fetal position cringe as blood was spilling over them. This was all my fault.
She didn’t seem to notice me. I didn’t know what else to say. “I’m sorry!” I screamed. She looked up at me. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t cry. She didn’t even breathe. After a second she resumed crying, and her lip quivered as she put her head down to the tile in the shower floor. I went over and picked her up gently, holding her close to me. She wrapped her arms around me and cried into the crook of my neck. Her tears and breath were hot against my skin. As I carried her bridal style to her room, I heard her whisper “Why?”, but payed no attention to it. We entered her room, and I set her in her feet. Her legs were shaking so bad, I thought she was going to collapse there. She held on to her bed frame and stood up straight, and she looked me in the eyes. She spoke confidently, “Why?”. Confused, I said back “What do you mean?” “I don’t know you. You don’t me, you don’t have to know me. You don’t have to help me. I told you to leave, and you came back? You could have left this mess, and you didn’t.” Her voice started to crack at the end. I stood there, speechless. “No one cares about me. No one is going to care about me. I don’t need someone getting my hopes up just to pull me down again.” she said. “You’re wrong. I care about you. I don’t want to hurt you. I just…” I stopped before I went on. “I’ve realized time and time again just how untrue that is. People leave, I cry. I get broke.” she said. “I’m not going to do that-” I said. She cut me off before I could say “that” with “Yes, you will. I don’t want to go through this. Please, just leave. It’s not like you care anyways.” She said. That’s it. I can show her that I care.
After I kissed the top of her head, she laid her head down on my chest. She curled up against me, eyes closed, still letting out a steady stream of tears. I put my arm around her, slowly rubbing her back. Her breathing started to even out. Eventually, she fell asleep. I looked down at her face. It was still sticky from tears. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were parted. I could feel her hot breath on my neck from the parting. She started to move, and her arm made it’s way up my waist till it laid across my chest at an angle, her hand right next to her mouth. She was completely adorable. Her hair slipped and small strands ran over her eyes and nose, and stopped just above her mouth. Her exhale made the strands fly up in the air just a little. Her make-up looked like smoke clouding her eyes, and her mascara had made dark, waxy looking streaks down her face. Her lips looked so soft under her lip ring. She looked so beautiful. Like she didn’t have a care in the world. As if she didn’t have the weight of the world on her delicate little shoulders, and that she doesn’t have words of pain and anguish carved onto her tiny thighs and wrist. I felt tears forming on the edge of my tired eyes. I lifted my arm off of her to wipe it away. She made a soft whimper and her long, black eyelashes began to flutter. She’s so cute. She opened her eyes, still squinting at the lighting change of the room. I guess she had a sudden realization as to what was happening. When she looked up and saw my face, her eyes widened and she shot up, hands still on my chest. “Wha-what…” she began to stammer. She was shaking again. “What happened?” She asked, voice trembling. “Shh-sh, it’s okay. Everything is okay. You were crying, remember?” I asked. Her looked softened, but her eyes widened again. “I-I cried myself to sleep in you arms?” She asked, seemingly angry. I didn’t really know how to respond. “U-uh… y-yeah.” I said. Once again, tears were forming in her eyes. “I-uh-I’m sorry! What’s wrong?!” I asked frantically. She stood up in the bed. I could clearly see all her scars. She jumped off and ran out of the room. She slammed the door behind her, leaving me awkwardly trembling in her bed alone. I lied there a few minutes before flipping the covers off me and slowly getting out of the bed. I looked around her room. Medium gray walls covered by various band posters, many I liked. {Panic! at the Disco, Pierce the Veil, The Used, A Day to Remember… Eventually, I stopped reading all the band posters. I ran into the hallway/balcony thing. It overlooked the living room, and there was a room at each end, and one on the center where Charlotte’s room was. I started looking around. I heard her sobbing in one of the rooms at the end of the hallway/balcony thing. I went up to the door, and knocked slowly. Her crying stopped, and everything was silent. I couldn’t even hear her breathe. “I’m coming in.” I said and I opened the door. She was siting on the floor. She had her arms wrapped loosely, her knees wet from tears. She was rocking back and fourth furiously. I stumbled over to her, sitting down next to her on the bathroom floor. There was a little blade on the linoleum under her long folded legs. I snatched the blade up and held it in the air. I twisted her head to face me, and stared into her eyes. Her adorable, seafoam green eyes with large black pupils.} She really was an attractive girl. But, she was more than just pretty. She was captivating. But she was incredibly skinny. It kind of worries me.
We sat there in awful silence for a long time. Finally, she started to talk. “I…” she stopped herself for a second. “I don’t know.” she said. “What?” I asked confused. She shook her head and replied “I just don’t know. What time is it?” she asked. Confused and token off-guard by the random question, I checked my phone. 5:27 “It’s about 5:30.” I said. “Why?” I asked. She looked up at me. “I…I think you should go.”
•Charlotte’s P.O.V•
"I…I think you should go." So many things were racing through my head. What just happened? Frank looked hurt. He was shaking a little as he got up to his feet. He stood there a second, looking at me. He walked over to the door, looking back at me before he slammed it shut. I heard him racing down the steps. I crawled over to the window. As I looked out, I saw him standing at my doorstep, wiping his eyes. I don’t want to get hurt. I’m sorry. I trembled at the sight if him so sad, and before I could comprehend it, he ran as fast as he could down the street. I stared, crying, as he disappeared behind the endless row of identical houses.
•Frank’s P.O.V•
I don’t understand. Why…why did she do that? I wiped away the tears, then jumped away from her doorstep. I feel like running. I just want to run away from… from all of this. What even is this? A relationship I made up in my head with a seemingly happy go-lucky girl I just met. But right now, she’s the only thing I can think about. Why? Is it because this depressed, gorgeous, secretly self-harming girl is so…vulnerable. It makes me just want to hold her and never let go. I just want her to know someone cares. I want to be that someone who cares.
I finally stopped running to catch my breath. I plugged in my earphones and escaped into a world of meaningful lyrics. “Yeah Boy and Doll Face” began blasting into my ears. ‘And she could make hell feel just like home! So I’m never leaving her alone. But if you’re lightning lips aren’t mine, then I don’t know the awkward stranger to my right (but she’s crying)’ by the last three words, I was in goosebumps and tears. That girl. I left Charlotte, that poor girl, in tears on the bathroom floor, razor blade in hand. Why did I leave? I looked around. I turned around in search of the way I came. I started running back. Her house was easy to find. It was the biggest house there, and it was gray with a bright red door. Also, I left my car in the driveway. I ran inside without knocking, knowing it would be useless. I ran upstairs. The silence was terrifying. I would’ve been happier to hear her crying, but silence… My fears got the best of me and I busted open the door. She was lying in the shower floor, her clothes still on, but soaked. She was shaking and crying intensely, but was making no noise. Her breaths were coming out short and choppy. Her long legs were tangled in a fetal position cringe as blood was spilling over them. This was all my fault.
She didn’t seem to notice me. I didn’t know what else to say. “I’m sorry!” I screamed. She looked up at me. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t cry. She didn’t even breathe. After a second she resumed crying, and her lip quivered as she put her head down to the tile in the shower floor. I went over and picked her up gently, holding her close to me. She wrapped her arms around me and cried into the crook of my neck. Her tears and breath were hot against my skin. As I carried her bridal style to her room, I heard her whisper “Why?”, but payed no attention to it. We entered her room, and I set her in her feet. Her legs were shaking so bad, I thought she was going to collapse there. She held on to her bed frame and stood up straight, and she looked me in the eyes. She spoke confidently, “Why?”. Confused, I said back “What do you mean?” “I don’t know you. You don’t me, you don’t have to know me. You don’t have to help me. I told you to leave, and you came back? You could have left this mess, and you didn’t.” Her voice started to crack at the end. I stood there, speechless. “No one cares about me. No one is going to care about me. I don’t need someone getting my hopes up just to pull me down again.” she said. “You’re wrong. I care about you. I don’t want to hurt you. I just…” I stopped before I went on. “I’ve realized time and time again just how untrue that is. People leave, I cry. I get broke.” she said. “I’m not going to do that-” I said. She cut me off before I could say “that” with “Yes, you will. I don’t want to go through this. Please, just leave. It’s not like you care anyways.” She said. That’s it. I can show her that I care.
Notes
Hi, so this is important. I broke my computer so it's going to be long time in-between chapters. I hope this chapter is okay, and please don't judge, this is my first fanfic. Please leave feedback! Thank you~
This isn't fair. As a person who has been suicidal and self harming for years now and suffering with social anxiety, it is nearly impossible for me to get help or talk to people without thinking that they hate me. It's not fair that every fanfic character gets the help that they need and meanwhile I'm just left here alone. All I want is for somebody to notice me and tell me I'm not okay even when I lie and say I'm fine. I know it's stupid but I just want that somebody to hug me and tell me that they care and that I'm not alone. But of course that will never happen because I'm just ignored, that's the way I am.
3/14/15