{Tyler}
I tried to bite my lip to stop the tears from streaming down, but they kept flowing. I heard Cameron's heavy breathing in the background, which only made me want to cry more. I hated being so vulnerable.
I dug my nails into my arms, steadying my breathing,
"Alright, we're not doing this." Cameron got up, and pulled my arms away from one another, "You're making yourself bleed."
"Stop touching me." I curled up,
"Okay." He put his hands up, "Remove your hands from your arms."
"Fine." I put my hands in my pocket, but I started to dig into my thighs,
"Tyler."
"I'm not doing anything!"
"Rip this paper." Cameron handed me a piece of paper,
"Why?"
"Just do it."
"I wasn't aware you controlled my life."
"Please, you're freaking me out."
"You are so annoying, I swear." I took the paper, and ripped it into shreds.
"Are you relaxing?"
"No."
"Talk to me about what I did, I need to know, it'll help me better myself."
"I don't want to talk about it, some of it's traumatic, and I'm sure you wouldn't want to see it."
"See it?"
"Yes. See it."
"Did you... hurt yourself, or did I?" I noticed the guilt and sadness hiding in his eyes, spreading it onto me.
"Both." I sighed,
"I want to see."
"No, you really don't." I shook my head. Cameron grabbed my hands,
"Please, Tyler."
"Why? Why should I? How do I know you aren't going to fucking turn on me?"
"I mean, you don't... But I promi-"
"Promises mean nothing." I snapped, making Cameron retract quickly,
"Why are you so negative?"
"Maybe because my brain is so fucked up, and I have no way to get help! Maybe because no one give a crap about me! Maybe because I know that I won't make it to eighteen because the only thing on my mind is suicide! Maybe because when I was five, I told myself that's the way I'd die! So many fucking possibilities!"
"Well maybe you could get help if you would just let someone in!"
"Don't you think I've tried? Cameron, you know nothing about me, don't act like you do."
"I would know things about you, if you let me know it!"
"Well, I'm incapable of that!"
"How? That makes no sense." I got up, and turned on my laptop, quickly typing in Borderline Personality Disorder and showed him a list of symptoms, "How do you know you have this if you don't have access to therapy?"
"My mom thought I was faking depression, so she took me in to see a therapist, and when I got assessed, I got diagnosed with BPD, Depression, and Social Anxiety. She continued to call the therapist a maniac, and refused to let me go back." I explained to him,
"Fine, I'm sorry." Cameron took in a deep breath,
"Whatever," I closed the laptop, and turned the radio on, laying back on the floor.
"No, I mean it, I'm sorry."
"I accept your apology? ...Was that better?" I scoffed,
"Not really."
"Well then too bad, because that's all you're getting."
"And you said I was a jerk." He shot,
"At least I realize, and admit that I am one." I fired back, my tone showing of my irritation,
"I hate you."
"Good, because I don't want to deal with you after this."
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