Scars

I wake up in Princey's arms and sit up, rubbing my eyes. What time is it? I check Roman's phone. 6:30 AM. I groan in annoyance for waking up so early and lay back down. I am not getting up at this time. It's way too fucking early.

I curl up beneath the layers of blankets next to Roman again, closing my eyes and trying to fall into a deep slumber. But the voice awakens me.

Look Virgil. You're the only one awake. Enough time to cut and throw up. What do you say? Go make yourself feel better. That's what you've always longed for, right? To make yourself feel good? Damn right! So just go make your worthless self feel good.

I start to slightly shake, my anxiety rising, but I get up and open Roman's door quietly and close it with silence so I don't wake him. I tip toe to the bathroom in my room and shut the door, locking it. Don't need anyone to walk in on me. I then open up the cupboard and take out my knife, take off my hoodie, throwing it on the floor, and making cuts on the tops of my arms now. The backsides are now littered in scars overlapping each other, so it's time to start on a new drawing board.

I dig the knife in my skin and pull. I wince at the pain that overcomes me, but I ignore it and keep on cutting.

Soon, ten cuts have turned into twenty. My arm is now covered in blood and is dripping on to the floor. Not caring, I put back on my hoodie, wiping tears from my face. I look in the mirror and ask, "Why do I have to be so worthless?" I choke on the last word and start to sob uncontrollably. I sink down to my knees and start to shake, on the verge of a panic attack, but the voice snaps me out of my state.

Now you must throw up. Don't want all that fat to consume you and make you even more ugly. Now get up and do it.

I stand up and walk over to the toilet, cradling my bloody arm with my other arm, holding it against my chest. I sink down to my knees and open the toilet lid, staring down at the water. This must be done to make myself be beautiful for once. So I shove my fingers down my throat and puke into the toilet, the infuriating smell filling up my lungs and making me puke some more.

Don't you feel better? Isn't everything just so much better after this little exercise? You don't need Roman. Forget about him. All you need is me.

I shake my head and wipe puke from the corners of my mouth. "That's not true. I need him too," I whisper. "I need both of you."

But you need me more. He's useless to you. All he does it follow you around like a puppy dog all day and bother you. Push him away. Push him aside. That's what you did to the others. They all hate you. Don't you know that? It's pretty obvious. Patton is only nice to you because...well...he's nice to everyone, even that heartless Logan. That guy is just annoying as fuck. He thinks that you're a problem; a mistake; a disorder; a disease; a glitch. You are a mistake. You should have never been born. All you do is cause problems for Thomas. Everyone hates you. Roman, Thomas, Logan, Patton, me. Everyone.

I start to cry and fall backwards, landing on my back. I cover my face with my arms to cover up the tears that threaten to drown me. Why am I such a fuck up? I'm just doing my job. Why do they all have to hate me? I've never done anything to them. I try to be nice. I truly do. But then they make fun of me and shut me down and tell me that I'm a problem and the reason why Thomas is in pain or not doing so well and that everything is my fault no matter what. They don't sound like a good family or pleasant friends to hang out with. They sound like people who you ignore and runaway from unless you are like them. I've realized something about this world. If you don't fit in, you're an outcast. People tell you that you belong nowhere and make you hate yourself. Everyone, everything in your eyes hates you. Your family tells you that you're a great person and not a freak, but it's no use. Depression sinks in and all of a sudden, you feel even more sad than before. Some deal with the pain because they are fighters and hug their pillows tighter. Others can't deal with this everlasting pain and end their very own life. Then suicide posters are put up because the person killed themselves, not because we were preventing people fro, killing themselves. Then there are the people who's depression isn't taken seriously. They tell others and those people say 'You'll get over it.' But you don't. You stay up at night crying into your pillow, and then go out into the world, holding back tears. You curl your hands into fists and tighten up your jaw just to put a smile on your face. I look around and see all these happy people with smiles plastered on their face and light in their eyes. How can they do that? How can they have such a beautiful feeling and have a true smile? These people- I envy them all so much, especially Princey. He thinks so much of himself and is always so happy that it's unnatural and his cheeks are so rosy and he always smiling. I don't get how he does it. Why can't I be like that? Why do I have to be so broken and he can be so perfect? I envy him so much. So fucking much.

Someone knocks on the door and says, "Virgil? Are you okay in there?" Roman.

I wipe away my tears and get up, flush the toilet and close the lid. I mentally shake myself and look in the mirror. My makeup is slightly smeared but it's okay. He probably won't notice cause I'm fine. Totally fine.

I open the door to see him standing there with a worried look on his face. I look down at the ground and mumble, "Yeah, I'm fine." I start to walk back to the bed, but he spins me around and lifts my chin up so our eyes meet.

He frowns. "What's wrong?"

I push his hands off my shoulders and mumble, "Nothing. I'm fine."

He obviously doesn't believe me because he cups my cheeks in his hands and pushes our foreheads together. "Tell me. What. The. Fuck. Is. Wrong."

I start to quiver and then the tears fall out. He pushes me in to his chest and plays with my hair. Then he picks me up and cradles me in his arms, coating me in his warmth, love, and protection. I feel so much more safer with him. I wrap my arms around his neck and pushes myself closer to him, not wanting him to ever let go.

I cry in to his shoulder and he pets my hair. "Shhh shhh. Tell me what's wrong." God, his words comfort me so much.

I tremble a little bit but make it through my explanation. "I-I...the voice...it t-told me to d-do things..."

He rubs my back with his hand. "What did the voice tell you to do?"

I sniffle. "It-it t-told me to c-cut myself-f and throw up in the toilet. So I...I did." I let out a loud sob and my whole body quakes.

Roman's voice cracks. "Why? Why did you listen to it? Why do you ever listen to that...thing?"

I let our another sob and he pulls me closer to him. "How can you still be with me?" I look up at him, waiting for an answer, tears coating my vision.

Confusion enters his eyes. "What do you mean?"

I snap. "HOW CAN YOU LOVE ME?! I'M SO BROKEN SO FUCKING BROKEN! How can you love someone who's so broken while you're so perfect?..." I let out a small whimper at the end and bury my face back in his chest. I just want to curl up into a ball and die. Just want to fucking die...

Roman makes me look back at him by throwing me down on the bed and getting on top of me. Both of his arms are on either side of my head and he stares at me with much love and passion and anger in his eyes. His hands curl up into fists and he brings his face closer to mine and says with much emotion, "You are perfect. So fucking perfect." Then he kisses me passionately and puts his hands in my hair, playing with it. I melt into the kiss and it last for a few minutes until he lets go of my lips. I whimper and he smirks, causing me to blush and roll my eyes.

Roman sits up, resting his back on the wall, and lifts me up with him, resting my back on his chest. Then he lays me head in the crook of his head and starts playing with my hair. His breathes are even until I hear his breathe hitch. All of a sudden, he spins me around and grips me hoodie, pulling it off and throwing it on to the floor. He quickly grabs both of my arms and peers sadly down at the cuts. I look away in shame. He didn't have to see that. I've caused him so much pain...

He picks me up and carries me to the bathroom without a word, turns on the sink, and place my arm under it. The blood washes away and then he grabs bandages and wraps them around my wounded arm. Then he carries me back to bed and turns off the light and we get under the comfy covers. His arms wrap around me and he pulls me on to his chest and plays with my hair, staring up at the ceiling.

I look up at him and whisper, "Princey, can you sing to me? To make me feel good?"

He looks down at me and nods, resting my head on his chest once again and begins.

"You said they made fun of your body Humiliation in your eyes when you told me Well I'm gonna find them Don't you worry I'll make sure They're really fucking sorry

You said you're embarrassed of your body You told me you think you're really ugly Well my love I know you don't see What I see

Anything that is beautiful People want to break And you are beautiful I'm afraid

Anything that is beautiful People want to break And you are beautiful I'm afraid

You said you're ashamed of your body You'd rather die than show me But I would love you in any Form you take

You said that they say that you're disgusting That they told you you were fat and unworthy Well my love I hope you trust me When I say you have a perfect body

Anything that is beautiful People want to break And you are beautiful I'm afraid

Anything that is beautiful People want to break And you are beautiful I'm afraid"

I look up at Roman and say, "Sing me one more song. Please."

He nods and hesitates, thinking, but starts to sing.

"If only I could love you enough to give you what you need If only I could be for you the hand that feeds Cause I know you can only starve so much Till you like how it feels Sitting on a throne of bones Staring at that cold meal

It's not your body that I love But it's the shell you're inside of And you're killing it, killing it The only piece of you I can touch It's not your body that I need But that's what sleeps next to me And you're killing it, you're killing it You're killing it Please eat

If only I could make you believe you deserve everything Every spoon and bite, anything, you want to eat Cause I know can only starve so much Before you'll die There's parts of you already gone I can never revive

It's not your body that I love But it's the shell you're inside of And you're killing it, you're killing it The only piece of you I can touch It's not your body that I need But that's what sleeps next to me And you're killing it, you're killing it You're killing it Please eat"

He kisses me and whispers, "Goodnight. Love you." He kisses me again. "And please, never cut or throw up in the toilet ever again." Then he closes his eyes and drifts off into sleep, leaving me in sadness.