Half naked hugging in the bathroom, what more could be better.
-Claire, LatherTheBlood xo
We returned to our room shortly after leaving for a tour round the campus. It was pretty shit looking, just as I had expected. The walls held a lifeless red colour and the roof was slated with grey panels. Grey panels that badly needed replaced or restored, there was green mould on the outside and I’m pretty sure there’s water damage on the inside. Apart from that, yeah, school of my dreams.
“So, Frank, Why’d you transfer to good ‘ol Canem?” asked a confident voice from across the room which I newly recognised as Gerard, my handsome new roommate. Did I say handsome? I meant..handsome.
“Well, it’s kind of a long story” I replied, nervously stroking the back of my neck.
“Well, we got a lot of time, right Mikes?”
“Well.. okay.. It’s because I got bullied. A lot. Every day, infact. They would chase me home after school, beat me to the ground causing several nose bleeds and burst lips. My mother thinks that because this school is extremely expensive and shit that there will be no bullies” I said, looking at the grey bed sheets that had suddenly seemed to become interesting.
“I hate to break it to you but she’s wrong, it’s much worse here, you can’t run home and hide, because it’s their home too, and they have the whole place maped out” Gerard said, hint of fear in his voice, as if he was looking back into past memories.
“What they bully you for?” a quiet voice said, barely able to be heard.
“Just stuff..” I replied, looking at one of the posters.
“They can’t have bullied you for no reason Frankie” Mikey questioned further, there was no backing out of this, I had to tell them and they will hate me forever.
“c..cause I’m.. I’m.. gay, and they don't like that” I said, barely a whisper.
I felt eyes looking down at me, I knew I shouldn’t have told them. They’re just as bad as those bullies back at school, they’re gonna beat the shit out of me, my own type. Weird outcasts like myself will beat the shit outta me.
I look up, but what I see are not eyes of disapproval but eyes of joy, and acceptance. The look my mother gave me when I first told her, she claimed she already knew but let’s face it, did she fuck. She was happy though and that’s all I could really ask for.
“That’s cool dude, I’m gay too. So don’t feel so threatened”
I smiled, a genuine smile. A smile that had not seen daylight since about 2 years ago. A smile I’d been told was beautiful, a smile only the closest friends will ever get to see.
“Thanks” was all I could muster up, not meaning to sound blunt.
For the rest of the night, we stayed up talking about life, the ups and downs. Mostly the ups though. From what Gerard had told me, Mikey and he were transferred into this school after their mother divorced their father and her new man was some big hot-shot who had a ton of cash. They hated him, they rarely spoke to their mother too but on the other hand, their father was always taking them out for outings on weekends.
Running, I couldn’t stop. They were chasing me again, those demons. They weren’t going to stop. Wherever I went, wherever I looked, they were there with their evil grins and fearful eyes. Glancing into your soul, trying to steal every inch of innocence and decency. Trying to corrupt you in every way possible. They’ve almost caught me, there’s no place I can run, they’ve cornered me, they’re sharp claws raised into the air ready to strike my being..
I awoke in a cold sweat. Beads rolling down my forehead and onto my bare chest.
I’ve been having nightmares like these since the bullying started, nothing can quite make them go away, I’ve had therapy and everything, nothing works.
I sat up, glancing towards Gerard and Mikey to see sings of consciousness, they were asleep. That’s good. At least some people can have normal enough nights.
I fumbled in my still unpacked suitcase, looking for my precious item. I do this after every nightmare, a different spot each time, helps me keep count I guess. So far, around 78. That you could still see.
Reaching down into the depths of the front pocket, I found my baby. I slowly crept over towards the bathroom, turning the light on and sitting on the closed toilet lid. I held up the small, delicate metal object in my pale hands, my baby.
My blood stained, sharply edged, baby. Sure, she wasn’t perfect, but nothing is right?
I held my arm out infront of me, looking down at the scars, some hardly visible, some very prominent.
I held down the razor just above my elbow, where the unscarred flesh was, about to cut.
About to let my blood flow freely outside of my body, like it so often did. A knock at the door interrupted my routine, stupidly, I said come in.
Gerard entered, bare chested, half dazed. I think the light from the bathroom must’ve woken him. Or my suitcase molesting.
I stared at him as he stared at my scar covered wrist, he looked horrified, at best disgusted. His eyes met mine. They had such a sympathetic glow, sympathy I didn’t need.
Sympathy I didn’t want.
Before I could even blink once more, the shiny metal pain causer was knocked out of my hand and I was now being warmly embraced by Gerard.
Half naked hugging also helps my nightmares.