What a waste of thought (whatweneversaid) wrote in writing_5150,
What a waste of thought

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Title: Dear Dad; Meet What I've Become
Fandom: My Chemical Romance or Original Fic, I'm not quite sure.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing, Self-mutilation, Homosexuality (but no sex)
Summary: Share the joy, share the pain.
Perspective: Second Person 

“Ah, fucking deer,” I muttered. I almost hit the stupid thing, slamming on my brakes just in time. “God, this is a neighborhood, not the woods.” 
Ray just turned and glanced at me, not saying a word. Normally, he would’ve joked around after I did something dumb like that; whack my arm, tell me to leave the sleeping for math class. Then again, I normally would’ve just played the clown; stick my head out the window, yell at the dear to move its cute little car-denting ass.
Both of us were quiet on the way to school; Ray jabbed at the radio buttons and I focused on driving. Just before we pulled into school, Rea turned and looked at me. “What’s up with you? What happened that’s got you so upset?”
You know how you lecture about keeping me to keep my eyes on the road dad? I was so glad I had that excuse not to have to look at Ray just then. I was so nervous, so guilty, for hurting Ray with the stupid thing I had done. I wasn’t afraid he’d break up with me; he cares about me more than that. And yes dad, we are dating. Deal with it. I just knew he’d be upset with me. I knew he’d be concerned. And worried. I was scared to show him the ugly, broken person that had taken over my life. I was afraid to show him just how weak I was. Where do you think I picked up that last fear, huh dad?
“I, um, I did something really dumb yesterday. Cause I got really upset. And you know how I hung up on you? I’m sorry about that, by the way, but my dad walked in the room and…” I told Ray, slowly what had happened after you barged in.
By the time I got to how upset you had made me, we in the parking lot and I had turned the car off. Neither of us moved to get out. This wasn’t something I could talk about in public at school with all kinds of judgmental assholes able to listen in.
“I just, I hate him so much sometimes, you know?” I hit my hands on the steering wheel. I turned my head to look out the side window. “And I feel so guilty about that, and about everything, and he never makes me feel happy with myself. He’s never proud of me. Why does he have to be so fucking judgmental, anyways? Why should he care? It’s not his life.”
Ray hugged me. “I know. It’ll be okay. Just don’t tell your dad about us. He doesn’t need to know. And you shouldn’t feel guilty about being who you want to be.”
I sniffed. I wiped my eyes, trying to make it look like I just had a runny nose, as Ray let go of me.
“So is that all that happened? I thought you said you did something stupid. Is that what you meant by that, or…?”
“No. I, well, I didn’t know how to deal with how upset I got. I freaked out, and I um, cut my arm,” I finally confessed, looking down. There was no way I could meet his eyes, no matter how many times you had lectured on the ‘importance of eye contact.’
“Oh shit,” Ray muttered. “You know you can always call me, right? It doesn’t matter what time it is or anything. Or you could like, write about what’s bothering you, or something. Will you show me though?”
“Uh, yeah.” I pulled up my sleeve.
“Oh.” He didn’t say anything else for a second, but he did hug me again. “So are you going to be okay at school today? Are you gonna have another problem wanting to cut?”
“I, I don’t know.” I hadn’t really thought about that. I hoped I didn’t have a problem. School sucked enough as it was. But I couldn’t get rid of that nagging little part of me that wanted to draw new lines, bring back that comforting sting and rush of energy, smudge the sticky blood. I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to control myself, especially if I got bored or upset again. I have really crappy self-control when I don’t have anything interesting to do.
“Okay, um…” Ray sighed. He trails off like that when he’s thinking sometimes. It can be kind of cute. But not this time. “Well, how about this- I’m going to check after school to see if you have anymore cuts, and if you feel really upset just write me a note, or get a pass to the guidance office, or something. They let you just sit in the guidance office if you look upset, I think. Or you could talk to your councilor. You could go take a nap at the nurse’s office, too. Cause, um, you look kind of sick today, so I’m sure she’d let you. Would any of that help at all?”
I was so happy I had Ray just then. He made me feel better, at least a little bit. I was still pretty upset with what you had said and how I had gotten so upset, but Ray helped me. “Ah, yeah, I think that could help a lot actually. Thanks Ray. So they really let us just go lay down at the nurse’s office?”
“Well, not if you look fine, or if you go there too much. But yeah, if you say you don’t feel good they’ll usually let you lay down for the hour. Now can we get out of this stupid car? I’m freezing my ass off out here, and we’re gonna be late.”
I felt a lot better. I was still tired. Still sad, and guilty, and ashamed. But better. Ray helped me, dad. More than you ever could.
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