Falling

I wait for him outside his house. To his parents, I am just another girl, a girl with a stutter. I knock gently at the door, and it swings open, and I see him. I smile brightly because we don't need words. To most, we are that girl with the stutter and that boy who is too shy to speak, but to each other we are the people who laugh and open up. He cleans all the harsh edges of my words. When he's around me he opens up and forget about all the times he's been hurt. *some cursing, and touchy topics*

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4. Third

I sneak it to class just in time - there was not a moment to spare. I sit down and within the minute the daunting bell rings. It is math, and I feel like I am out of my body. Sure, my mind cares about math, but my spirit doesn't. Why didn't I notice? Why didn't I ask? Why didn't he tell me? Why? Why? Why? My hands take notes on what the teacher is saying, but I don't pay attention.

Suddenly, I realize that I can't worry about the past - I have to worry about the future, his future, our future. I have to find out why he is doing - find the root of the problem, and I have to dig it up with one big swoop. I can do this, but how? How do I get through to him? How do I ask the right questions.

Then, the memory comes back of each of the scars on his arms, and I know what I have to do to save him, us, me. I try to focus on my classes, but in every spare moment I think of what I am going to say, and how I am going to say.

The day ends slowly, and I wait for him outside the gate.

"Hey Miss Magdalena," he says in a saddened way with his eyed downcast,

"I have two things I have to say."

"Okay," he barely says,

"Thing number one: I love you," I say staring up at him. We have always thought it, but never said it, "Thing number two: for every time you hurt yourself, I will do it too. You cut twice, I cut twice, you cut 10 times, I cut 10 times, you kill yourself, I-I will do it too," I say slowly,

"No you can't do that!"

"Yes I can. You need to stop, and every time you do it, you won't just be killing me emotionally - it'll be physical too." I winces and looks like he is going to say something, but then he decides against it and just looks pained. He sits on the curb and puts his head in his head. I want to very much to go up next to him, hug him, give him a sweet kiss, and tell him everything will be alright, but it won't. Not unless he stops. I hope he loves me enough to put an end to it. I turn around and walk fast. I walk, and walk, but I don't look around. It hurts in my chest and my eyes burn, but I have to put on my mask for my parents. They can't find out about any of it.

Will this be the end? rattles in my brain as I try to go to sleep. The question is like one big tree and offshoots that are similar surround it. Will this be the end of our relationship? his life? mine? I wonder if it will be like adults always say. They say you will look back at your relationships and remember how silly it was. You will remember the things you did just to get your crush to notice you. I can't imagine it being like that with Quint and me. It seems so real. What I said to him wasn't one of those time where you say what you are obliged to say as you become an adult. This came from my heart. I promised myself in 9th grade that I would never cut, but I am willing to break that to keep an even bigger promise - the one between us. 

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