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"You don't know what it's like."

"Oh, but I do. And if you did, you wouldn't be arguing with me about this."

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She had seen his scars. All the fresh cuts and scars that covered his arms, and she had stepped back in fear. Or was it shock? He didn't know. The one thought at the front of his mind, though, was; "No." Panic crawled all over him, and fear wrapped around him like a blanket, nearly suffocating him. He quickly pulled his sleeves down, not bothering to rewrap the bandages, and looked at her with sadness and fear. When she didn't move, he sighed. "I'm sorry," was all he said. No, he wasn't sorry for cutting. He was sorry that she found out, like this especially. As he rose, he glanced at her once more. She looked too shocked to register what was happening. He walked past her, and I suppose that's when her common sense snapped back into her. She grabbed his wrist, and he winced visibly. The cuts were too new. Still bleeding. She pulled her hand back, but turned to him. "Why?" was all she could get out. He looked down. "Just. Life, I guess." She shook her head and looked at him straight in the eyes, glaring. "What the hell is wrong with you!"

He stepped back.

Whatever he had been expecting, it was not that.

"...what?"

"You heard me! What's wrong with you?! I thought you were normal!"

Normal...

"I..." he couldn't even comprehend the words coming out of her mouth. Best friends shouldn't treat eachother like this, that much he knew.

"You're crazy!" she continued. "You have everything in the world, your family is still together, you haven't even been bullied once I'm pretty sure, and you have people practically bowing to you. What more could you want?!"

He recoiled, until the anger flared up in him bit by bit. "I know! I have everything, but that doesn't mean I'm happy!"

"What more could you possibly want to be happy?" she exclaimed. "I wish I knew! Trust me, if it were that easy, I wouldn't be in this mess." he replied. Somehow, that seemed to make her anger worse, and she pulled up her sleves, showing him her cuts as well. Much less than his, sure, but more fresh. Not as deep, but there nonetheless. "You... you cut?" he whispered, and she nodded while biting her lip as she teared up. "But at least I have a reason!"

He tried to control his anger. He really, really did.

"What the fuck? You should understand me, shouldn't you?! I may have the 'perfect' life, but I'm. Still. Broken! And I wish, oh how I fucking wish, that I knew why the hell I'm so sad all the time because then maybe I could fix it, I wish I knew why I hate myself so damn much, but I don't! And even though I'm so grateful for my life, and I hate the fact that even with this amazing life I'm still sad, it happens. I WISH I knew how to make it all okay. Make it not hurt anymore. But there's only one way to do that, and it's fucking killing myself. You want me to do that, huh?"

She looked shellshocked.

He looked broken.

And then she had the decency, the audacity, to mumble out a few words.

"You don't know what it's like."

"Oh, but I do. And if you did, you wouldn't be arguing with me about this."

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