Short Story 1. Cuts.

Hellooo guys. This is the first short story I'm posting. Enjoy! :)

PG13.


I walked down into Madison Avenue, hearing nothing but the faint sound of the few cars left on the road. It is 1 in the morning, and I was pretty sure I'm the only one awake now. The whole world seem not to care anymore, after that big fight with dad. Now I'm all alone. I sat down on the kerb and stared as the lighted boards on the shopping malls slowly fickled out.

"Hey." A deep hollow voice said to me.

I looked up. A dark shadow hovered above me. He sat down beside me, and I noticed he had dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes. His eyes looked surprised, probably not knowing there would be someone else out in the streets late at night. But I also saw the pain in his eyes, like he have been hurt before.

"Hey." I replied, and gave him a slight smile.

"My name is Ian, yours?"

"Chloe."

"You look like you need company."

I laughed to myself. "What about you? Big boy alone at night?" He was just some stranger and I decided I wasn't going to tell him anything.

"Nah, bad day. You don't look so good either."

We talked for a while. Maybe an hour. I realized he was a lot like me. Plus he looks way hot, not someone you'll find hard to talk to.

"You don't seem like you're going to head home for the night, why don't come to my place?" He asked.

He was right. No way I'm going to go home. I agreed, and followed him back to his apartment.

Back in his place, we were talking, and he suddenly leaned in to kiss me. Gentle at first, then hard and hungry. His kiss consumed me. His hands slipped down from my arms, down to my hips, and slowly slid off my jeans, obviously enjoying every moment of it. Suddenly, he stopped. He saw it. I knew he did. He touched the thin, parallel red lines that lined my thighs.

"Don't." I said. Tears threatened my throat. I suddenly realized he might just be like the other guys. Afraid of someone like me.

"Don't worry, I have some too." He said.

Then he bent down and kissed the scars on my thighs, and then his lips were on mine again, hungrier than before.

After that, we sat on his couch watching old movies, cuddling up in a thick wool blanket, with a large bowl of caramel popcorn. It was then I saw it. Fine red lines on his wrist, normally covered with his bracelets and bands. I smiled, feeling so lucky to have someone know exactly how I feel and what I go through.