Trigger warning: Talk of self harm.

Alex's POV:

It was now Sunday evening. Mum and I were sat at the kitchen table, having just finished dinner. There was a strange atmosphere surrounding us and Mum kept opening her mouth and closing it again, as if she were about to say something but decided against it last minute.
"Alex, honey, I think we need to talk..."
I knew exactly what was coming, I was expecting it. I didn't say anything, I just nodded and kept my head low. I'm ashamed of myself, I'm ashamed that I cut myself, I'm ashamed of how I look.
"Monday night, when I found you...in the bathroom, before you had your panic attack...your leg. Alex, why?"
I bit my lip in an attempt to stop the tears that were threatening to spill over. My legs started to bounce underneath the table. I took a deep breath, knowing that I'd have to explain sooner or later.
"I'm sorry, Mum." My reply coming out barely audible. "I-I'm depressed, Mum. It's happening again...The bullying. T-they're calling me a faggot, told me I'm pathetic. I-I didn't know what else to do. I've been doing this for a while. Not that it really matters. I don't matter." Everything came out in a whisper, silent tears rolling down my face.
"Is that what you truly think of yourself, Alex?" I nodded, feeling a pang of guilt in my stomach when I look up, seeing my mother with tears streaming down her face.
"Honey, that's not true at all. You do matter. You are not patheticin any way. Can I ask you a question though?" I didn't reply, knowing that she'd just go ahead and ask anyway.
"Are you, you know...gay?" I froze. I've never told her the truth. I mean, it's pretty damn obvious: I've been dying my hair for years and I wear girl's jeans! I don't say anything, I keep my head low and just nod.
"You know, I'm okay with that. I'm not against it. I'll support you no matter who you like. But..." Oh shit, it's never good when my mum starts with a 'but'. "Your self harming needs to stop. Alex, you know you could do some serious damage? You could die! And I don't ever want to loose my baby. Alex, I'm sending you to therapy." My breathing hitched. I've heard bad things about therapy. I don't even want to step near a place like that. Eh, I'll guess I'll give it a go.
"Oh and Alex? I want you to give me your, um, harming stuff." WHAT? How was I supposed to cope? I love my mum, don't get me wrong, but she doesn't understand. There was no point in fighting or arguing anyway.
"Where do you keep your stuff, Alex?" Oh god.
"Desk drawer." I mumbled, a fresh batch of tears flowing down my blotchy cheeks. Mum nodded, stood up and went upstairs. I head foot steps, many drawers opening and closing again. She seemed to be gone for ages. I didn't move, I just sat and stared at one particular spot on the kitchen table. I thought back to our conversation, a mix of emotions bashing around in my head. I guess you could say I was relieved that she didn't have a problem with me being gay, I'm pretty sure she already had an idea anyway. I was pissed that she was sending me to therapy, but I'd go anyway. For her. I was angry that she was taking my blades away, but I should've expected that anyway. More importantly, I was just...numb. I could feel so many emotions that I think they just overwhelmed me so it felt like I was feeling nothing. A few more minutes had passed before my mum came back into the kitchen, clutching the little box I kept my blades in. She was still crying, her eyes red and puffy and her nose running. I felt awful knowing that it was me who caused this. It's always my fault. She walked over to the bin and threw the box containing my only escape away. Fuck, that hurt.
"Alex, honey, go to bed. It's getting late and you've had a stressful day." She padded over to where I was still sat and hugged me from behind. "I love you, Lexxy." Lexxy? She used to call me that was I was little, usually when I woke up from a nightmare, crying and practically screaming the house down. She really was pulling the sympathy card.
"I love you too, Mum." I got up, went upstairs, stripped down to my boxers and climbed into bed. My tears had stopped but my vision was still a little blurry. I curled up, hugged my knees to my chest and drifted off into a restless slumber, anxiety building up in my veins thinking about what Jack would have in store for me tomorrow, my crush only growing strong.

-

6:30. Great. School...with Jack. I got up, knowing that if I lay there any longer, I'd never get up and my mum would only have to come in and shout at me.

I walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower and looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were still a little puffy, whether that was from the crying last night or from the sleep, I didn't know. My eyes drifted to my stomach. Old scars littered the once smooth skin. I ran my finger tips over the bumpy skin, shivering at the touch. My eyes then wandered down to my thighs. My cuts from Monday were scabbed over, the slightly deeper ones still a little swollen. The word still stood out though. I could feel tears forming in my eyes. Don't cry, Alex. Don't be so fucking weak!! I turned my back to the mirror and stepped into the shower, hoping to forget about how much I really didn't want to go to school...or therapy.

Half an hour later, I was dressed, downstairs and I was just about to head out the door to start my walk to school.
"I'll book you an appointment for therapy today." I inwardly groaned. A small part of me hoped that she'd forgotten about last night's events. Ha, not likely. I nodded and headed out the door, not taking my eyes off my old converse until I walked through the main gates. I checked my timetable and only grabbing the books that I needed for the first few periods. The bell sounded through the halls and a mass chorus of teenagers groaned in unison, all heading towards their form rooms. I turned and headed in the direction that I remembered the music hall being in. On my way there, I realised that I hadn't seen Jack. He wasn't leaning against my locker with Rian and Zack laughing at his dumb dick jokes that seemed to be so popular. How? I really have no idea.

I arrived to form late, having taken a wrong turning along the main corridor. I knocked on the door and shuffled in. Mr Flyzik, shot my a smile and nodded his head towards the empty seat next to...Jack. I couldn't really tell from the hood over the person's head, which was buried in his arms as they slumped over the desk. I slid into the chair next to him, accidentally nudging his leg with my knee. I froze as his head shot up Fuck. I turned to look at him, feeling his eyes, once again, burning a hole in my skull.

He looked like utter shit. His eyes were wide, as if he was trying to keep them open, and they were heavily shadowed by dark circles underneath them. His hair was a dishevelled mess under his hoodie. Then he did something I never expected in a million years...he smiled.

Notes

Heyy, sorry this is kind of short
Updates are gonna be a little slow because I'm on holiday and I have to update from my phone.

thanks :))
Em x