Kiseop's POV

I thought everything was okay when we started to regain our friendship, he was fine at first but then I don’t know what happened. Every so often I could spot a hold of his face with pain drizzling out of every pour. It pained me to see him that way and I doubt that he knew he was putting on that pained face.

I had worried so much over him when we got back to school, I was worried that we weren’t going to able to speak to each other anymore and that we wouldn’t even be friends anymore.

Those nightmares of thoughts were right because he hadn’t said anything to me and that was okay. I really didn’t have anything to say to him the first week either, plus I knew that we both needed time so I just left him alone.

Although when I saw his face I wanted to immediately tell him that I was sorry and I felt so bad, that it hurt me so much that I couldn’t talk to him at all. He needed his space so what was I supposed to do? I didn’t want him to feel suffocated and leave me, which would have hurt more so I just kept it all in.

That was a bad idea because that only created a freezing space between us, it was so cold I thought I would turn to ice and I didn’t want that. I just wanted him back I definitely got myself for saying such stupid words it was clearly my fault he was going through all this.

It was my fault for everything, I didn’t deserve a friend like him, I didn’t deserve a friend at all, and that’s why he was slipping out of my grasp.

Still I had to try and so thankfully after the first week or month or whatever I didn’t know how long time had slipped from me; it felt like an eternity. I started off slow so that I didn’t scare him, I mean by this point we were both delicate; porcelain cranes and with just one throw of a stone would both be broken.

 I started to text him but he didn’t reply and that hurt me. Still I waited and didn’t want to break our delicate balance after some time I tried to call him, but he still kept ignoring me. Then I tried to talk to him in school and he didn’t say a thing.

It broke me to see him this way, it was my entire fault and I couldn’t do anything to fix it. There were no more chances for me and I knew it still I kept trying for my sanity. It hurt me every time he said nothing or ignored me, it hurt so much.

Like icicles were being dug deep within my heart killing it and freezing it. Those objects kept digging into my skin every time I tried to make everything better; re-killing me every day for my mistake.

 Each day what had hurt me more than his frozen silence was his face. Each day I saw it seemed to be getting worse and worse and I could tell that he was losing weight even if his clothes didn’t outline his body well.

There were bags under his eyes and those orbs were murderous red every day. This always sent me home in tears, because I knew that I had ruined him, I broke him and that just made a deeper hole in my chest.

Eventually it had come to me going to his house every day trying to talk to him; I had to try anything and everything. Every time his parents turned me down; they even started to get weary of me. Still I didn’t want to give up because that would have been worse than everything that I had put myself through.

Although as much as I did try eventually they let me in and I was so happy when they did. When Kevin answered the door I was even more elated to see him standing there.

I had to suffer an awkward diner and I was happy when it was over. Finally I got to talk to him in days and when I got to his room alone; with him standing there everything burst out of me. I couldn’t take it anymore and barraged him with questions.

Soon I felt his embrace and I didn’t even know who hugged who all I knew was that I was happy; every pain and fear that had been seeping through me disappeared momentarily.

Each sadness that came with each day was gone from my bones and were filled up with his warmth. It had been a while since I even touched him and I could feel liquid seep out of his eyes which caused me to cry.

At that moment I didn’t even have to wonder I knew that we were friends again and never have I been happier for anything in my entire life.

Our new found friendship was good and everything was fine again. In a month we had caught up with each other and I found that we were both suffering to an extent.

During that time I was happy and soon came February which made me even happier. I wanted to give him something to tell him that I liked him but I thought against it, I just got his friendship back I didn’t want to lose it immediately.

Five months without him were painful enough and I didn’t want any more problems.

I could tell he didn’t really like that month because of all the attention I was getting, which I didn’t care about, I only cared about him.

Though I could tell that it was bothering him and I chose to ignore everything and sometimes even throw out some letters that he didn’t see so that he wouldn’t want to kill everyone.

I felt extremely jealous when he was getting love letters and gifts of course he threw them out but sometimes he rubbed them in my face and that got me mad. I understood how he was feeling now; still I let him rub it in so he could feel better somehow.

That ‘friendship’ or whatever happiness it became didn’t last long because soon he started to become distant to me again. I didn’t like it and tried to go and talk to him about it but his parents told me that he was sick.

This began to worry me; I knew that he wasn’t really ignoring me for sure again yet. So in a way I didn’t think I was to blame yet but worried that his health was getting worse I mean if he was bad before and now he was sick. His parents really needed to take him to the hospital I feared for his life.

Soon his little sickness seemed to spread apparently because now he didn’t only miss one day but he kept taking more days off. Each day he wasn’t there I went to see him but every time I did his parents kept saying he was sick and so I laid off.

I was beginning to worry though, there was something really wrong I could feel it in my chest and I had to do something about it.

Eventually just a few days became weeks and now my radar was on full blast I had to do something; say something to him. This wasn’t good for his grades even though they were the lowest and he was practically failing.

I didn’t really care for that I just wanted to talk to him and each day that he wasn’t there I kept thinking that it was my fault.

When he did come he refused to say anything to me, even though I tried to speak to him. Once again I fell into my sadness blaming myself constantly if I hadn’t said anything and just kissed him then nothing like this would be happening right now.

I started noticing that his health was getting worse than when he didn’t talk to me. If that was even possible and I guess it was because he looked like a skeleton all the time.

Sometimes I couldn’t even look at him how scared I got it seemed that a ghost, a shell was staring back at me. His eyes were emotionless and deeply sunken it and I noticed other things as well.

When he bent down to pick up things I noticed bright red, fleshy cuts. Or on his knuckles there were gashes and fresh wounds. Sometimes he would lift his arms and I could see mad purple bruises.

This pained me but whenever I tried to ask what was going on he would just ignore the question and I could see him cringe whenever I did ask him. It was killing me inside to see him like this, I wondered was he hurting himself or were his parents?

If they were then no wonder they wouldn’t let me in to see him. They kept him at home all the time just to beat him and that infuriated me. I was fed up with seeing all those injuries on him, which I was going to call child services on them.

I knew that he didn’t know that I could see them and usually no one could because no one paid attention to him.

I was different I noticed every change in him, he was depressed all the time, I wanted to help but he had become like porcelain again. One hit and he would be broken so I just left it alone for the time being.

Though I began to wonder he was no fool and for sure would have more bruises in spots that no one could see. Sometimes at night instead of studying I wondered how much damage he had underneath him.

The thing was that it seemed that all his bruises were fresh every day and that bothered me to no end. Not only that but he would skip school often and that meant that he was faking being sick to either hurt himself or for his parents to hurt him.

He needed help and I had reached my breaking point when I saw the full length of his arm and all the old and fresh scars of it. No one else seemed to see it but it broke my heart and my restraint.

After school that day I asked him what was going on and as he said ‘nothing’ like he sometimes did to answer me I snapped. I threatened him which I had fallen to saying just to get anything out of him anymore.

He tensed and told me that he was cutting and that threw all my sense out the window. The feelings that I was feeling when he wouldn’t talk to me had resurfaced.

The pain I felt when he was injuring himself all spilled out and I broke down crying in front of him. I didn’t know what happened from the powerful emotions I had built that came out, I think I hugged him and told him to top. Then I threatened him again but I truly couldn’t remember a thing.

After that day he began coming to school more often and I saw less bruises on him every day. I was happy to find this out and there was a smile plastered on my face almost every day except for one thing.

His body kept deteriorating he started to look more like a corpse within each day. That scared me and I was surely going to tell his parents about this whether he liked it or not.

Then once again his attendance at school kept dropping which made me upset. After about two weeks of not being in school I began to worry because that was the longest time he had ever taken to not coming to school so far.

I wasn’t going to make it another week, I know he threatened to stop being my friend if I told on him but I didn’t care. I had to do something, if he had taken to hurting himself again, he needed to stop, and he needed help me.

I tried to talk to his parents but they never seemed to be at home and that scared me even more. I don’t know why, but I seemed to think the worst of everything and after a week I started noticing something that I hadn’t seen before.

More and more kids in my grade were crying and I didn’t know why plus I didn’t really care because they didn’t interest me.

Some girls and even boys started bringing in flowers and that started to scare me I wanted to know to stop my thrumming heart from jumping out.

I was worried and my thoughts immediately went to Kevin. I had asked a group of girls why they were carrying flowers but they only gave me a dirty look before continuing to cry.

By the end of the month I saw a girl carry a vase of flowers and put it on the desk by me, the desk where Kevin sits. That really scared me and I couldn’t wait for school to be finished.

There was a foreboding feeling taking root deep within my body, it was being filled with darkness. I didn’t care whether Kevin’s parents were home or anywhere I couldn’t take it anymore I needed to know these thoughts and questions that were filling my heart.

When I ran over there I was crying, all my feelings, all my sadness ripped a hole in me. I kept thinking sad thoughts and questions as I ran with all my strength and the sky must have been sad too because it started to cry along with me.

I finally got there and knocked there was no answer for a while but I was determined to wait out any hour of time until they opened up, in this rain. It didn’t take but five minutes and it surprised me when the both of them were standing in the door way.

I was keeled over huffing and puffing, tears still staining my eyes. Before I even got to regain my breath to ask anything, they answered every question I had if barely a sentence:

“Kevin’s dead.”