Trading Pieces of Sky [COMPLETED]

26

There was a knock on the door that made us both jump.

"Who is it?" Beckett called out.

"It's me," his dad said through the door.

Beckett climbed out of bed and quickly unlocked the door to let him in.

He entered carrying a canvas bag which he set on the bed. Beckett closed and locked the door before returning to his position on the bed.

"Why don't we go into the bathroom where there is better lighting?" He suggested offering his hand to help me up, "Can you walk alright?"

"Yes. I'm fine," I said standing up on my own.

I followed him into the bathroom where he began placing his medical tools on the counter.

"If you remove your sweats, I can take a look and see if we can manage the wounds here," he said, turning to face me with blue gloves on.

I nodded and sent an uncomfortable glance at Beckett who was standing in the doorway. 

Maybe if I make a run for it...

I slipped the sweats off my waist and let them drop to the floor. My heart was racing with nervousness, knowing that I was sharing my humiliating secret with yet another person.

He didn't say anything as he peeled the tape off my skin and removed the temporary bandages that had been soaked through.

He said I could take a seat on the toilet as he grabbed some cotton and began cleaning around the cuts.

"Well, good news, I think only one of these is going to need stitches," he said calmly and in no hurry.

"Unfortunately I don't have anything to numb you. So you might want to hold onto something that you can squeeze while I'm stitching you up," he suggested, scrunching up his nose in sympathy.

Beckett came and crouched beside me taking both my hands.

"What did you use to cut yourself?" He asked in a more clinical tone of voice.

My face was burning with shame and the anxiety coursing through my body was making me shake. 

"A razor," Beckett replied when I didn't say anything.

"Was it unused?"

I nodded when Tony looked up.

"Alright, here we go."

I squeezed Beckett's hand tightly as he began to work. I couldn't stop myself from crying as he wove the sutures into my skin. It didn't take long before he was done and began applying antiseptic cream and a bandage over his handiwork. He applied some butterfly bandages to help seal the others, including the few on my arm, which didn't hurt as badly.

I released Beckett's hand and wiped my eyes and nose.

"Beckett, would you mind giving us just a few minutes," his dad said as he stood up from his kneeling position on the floor.

"Sure, I'll just be in my room," he half-smiled at me before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask you a couple of questions," he sighed as he leaned against the bathroom counter and removed the gloves he was wearing.

I nodded, the jitters taking over my limbs again.

"Were you trying to kill yourself?" he asked me seriously.

"No," I shook my head.

"Are you currently seeing a psychiatrist or counselor?" he asked as he packed away his tools.

"No," I responded softly.

"Okay, well, while you're here, please know that if you ever get the urge to cut again you just tell me or Beck, okay? Have you heard of TIPP?" he asked curiously.

"Um, no, I don't think so."

"It's an acronym for Temperature, Intense Exercise, Paced Breathing and Paired Muscle Relaxation. Basically, it helps to relieve extreme emotions without using an unhealthy coping mechanism. Like self-harm. Next time you get the urge, grab a bag of frozen peas or some ice and place it somewhere on your body. Like the inside of your arm, where you would cut. Or your face or neck. Whatever will distract you long enough to let the desire pass."

"You're not going to tell anyone right?" I asked, fearful of someone finding out, searching his face for honesty as he spoke.

"No, not unless you're in danger."

I nodded, releasing a breath of relief, and he collected his things from the counter and gestured to the door. I stood up from the toilet, quickly replacing the sweats on my body. I made my way into the hall where Beckett was standing in his doorway, feeling the uncomfortable tightness from the stitches.

"Oh, I forgot to ask," his dad said before heading down the stairs, "your mom said she was going to stop for food on her way home. You kids okay with pizza?"

"I'm fine with that," Beckett said with a smile, "Sky?"

"Yeah, thank you."

"How about your brother, will he eat pizza?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, for sure," I smiled thinking about how much pizza he could eat.

"I'll holler when it's here," he added before leaving us to ourselves.

I turned to head back to Katy's room when Beckett called out to me.

"Sky, wait," he said as he approached me.

"What?" I asked impatiently.

"I just...I just want you to know that I'm sorry if anything I ever said made you hurt yourself."

His voice was shaky and I noticed that his eyes were glassy with forming tears.

I didn't want him to know that I had let his stupid opinion impact me.

"Not everything is about you," I jabbed before continuing to Katy's room and closing the door.