Before I Go

Chapter 29- I'm Not Going Anywhere

I sit silently beside Parker on my bed as Ash busies herself with cleaning up my bathroom. The guilt I feel at this moment is immense, knowing that my best and only friend is currently on her hands and knees scrubbing an insane amount of my blood from my bathroom floor... Blood that's only there because I did something terrible to myself... It's... I don't even know how to describe it, really. All I know is that it hurts. A lot.

Parker keeps glancing at me, and I can't tell whether it's because he's entirely uncomfortable with me right now or he just doesn't know what to say or do in a situation like this. I suppose I can't really blame him; honestly, I don't think I'd know what to say if the roles were reversed, either. I want to say something to break the silence, to finally put an end to the unbearable tension that's suddenly building between us, but my lips won't move. It's like they're glued together or something. So, instead, I just continue to sit quietly, staring off into my bedroom that now feels somehow less mine. It's like some kind of museum or something, where I'm the main attraction, and my whole soul is put on display for the viewing pleasure of whoever dares to visit the gruesome exhibit.

I don't like it, feeling this bare in front of other people. I don't like it at all. Honestly, I think being so emotionally naked in the presence of others is so much worse than being physically nude.

Yes, I'd take standing stark naked in the middle of the school hallway over this, any day.

My mind is running a mile a minute, every crevice inside my brain filled with self-deprecating thoughts. And I'm wholly self-conscious. I don't have any idea what I'm supposed to do at a time like this. In a moment such as this one. While Ashton is busy cleaning up the mess that I left in the bathroom and Parker is... well, he's probably planning his escape, if I'm honest... I can't even bring myself to look at him, and I hate that so much.

I'm so embarrassed, and I feel so, so stupid right now.

I wish I could tell what he's thinking. Crap, the power to read other people's minds would be so incredibly useful at times like this.

"Morgan," Parker finally says, his voice soft and filled with emotions I can't decipher. I don't want to, I suppose. Because if I figure out how he's feeling right at this moment... God, I'd probably hate myself even more than I already do. "Will you talk to me? Please?" he asks, and the pleading tone he uses cracks my already shattered heart further. When I don't answer, Parker takes my hand and says, "I'm not going anywhere, you know."

His words strike a chord in me, somehow releasing me from my stupor; I hadn't been expecting that reaction, that's for sure. Taking a deep breath, I whisper, "Did you see?" It's probably the most difficult sentence I've ever strung together in my whole life. Those three little words take so much effort to force out of my mouth, so much energy to insist they leave my befuddled mind and become more than just a meaningless thought stuck in my head. I can't, and I don't... And I don't know if I want to think of anything else in the entire world until I know the answer to my question.

Parker soothingly rubs his thumb across the back of my hand and carefully responds, "I did."

And that precise reply, those two simple words, is exactly what I was hoping not to hear. The tears burst through the invisible dam that was just barely holding them back, setting them free to spill down my face like a raging waterfall. Through the sobs that wrack my entire body and the emotions that are choking me as they lodge themselves obstructively in my throat, I somehow manage to whisper, "Do you think I'm a freak?"

"I don't think you're a freak," he answers gently, without a second of hesitation or a hint of disgust in his tone. "I think those marks on your leg are just a sign that you've been strong for too long. They're battle scars, Morgan. While they're not likely exactly the same, we all have our own; it's what makes us human, you know? It's not unusual or abnormal or gross or whatever else you're thinking; it's normal for people to have wounds from their pasts or from when life gets too hard to handle. The fact that yours are self-inflicted just means that you may need a little nudge in the right direction, that's all. And that's what I'm here for."

"I'm here, too," Ashton adds, returning from the bathroom. Or maybe she'd been back for a while, and I just hadn't yet noticed her presence; with my current state, it's definitely possible. "We care about you, Morgan Feldman," she says, crossing the room until she's standing directly in front of me. "You are important. You mean something to us. And Parker and I need you to understand that. We need you to remember it the next time you're having a bad day. You can call us, and we'll come to help you. I know it's hard to ask for help, especially when you feel like you're drowning in your feelings, but you're so strong, Morgs. Maybe you can't see how strong you are, but I can. I see it."

Giving my hand a slight squeeze, Parker adds, "I see it, too. Please, Morgan... next time you feel like you need to hurt yourself to feel better, please call one of us. Even if we can't do anything to take away your pain, we'll be here for you, be here with you, so you don't have to suffer alone."

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is how I knew that Parker Adams had utterly stolen my heart. I couldn't get it back from him, even if I tried.