What's Wrong With Us?

A

When he found his bag, he quickly emptied its contents, desperate to locate his blade. As he finally saw it, he stared at it through his tears. Memories of his best friend, his little sister, his academy counselor, and his therapist surfaced in his mind: "Please don't leave us," "You're still my amazing big brother," "It's hard because you're strong," and "They still love you; it's just really hard for them to understand you."

Despite these heartfelt words from those who truly understood and loved him, they seemed meaningless now.

Arch grabbed the blade and, with a desperate slash at the same spot he had cut himself nine months ago, he collapsed onto the scattered belongings on the floor. The pain was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the overwhelming wave of emotions that engulfed him.

As he lay amid the disarray, the chaos around him mirrored the turmoil inside, his despair and hopelessness closing in like the scattered objects surrounding him.

B★・・・・・・・・・ ・・・・・・★

After lying among his scattered belongings, blood flowing from his cut, Arch gasped sharply and snapped his eyes open. A surge of remaining strength and flicker of hope drove him to struggle upright. Grasping his phone from the sleeping bag, he dialed Macky-the only person who knew where he was.

As the phone rang, his call symbolized a desperate attempt to reach out amidst his darkest hour.

Meanwhile, Macky was in her dorm, lost in the rhythm of practicing riffs on her bass guitar. Though she knew where Arch was and had respected his need for space, her concern always lingered. When Arch's call came through, her fingers faltered on the strings, and her heart skipped a beat. Answering, her voice trembled with a mix of panic and urgency, revealing the deep concern she felt for her friend.

"Archie! Are you okay? Are you coming back? Do you want me to come?" Macky's frantic questions reflecting a deepening desperation. Arch didn't respond immediately.

After a heavy pause, he mumbled weakly, "Come..." His faint reply intensified Macky's alarm. Her hands shook as she grappled with the gravity of his condition.

The call abruptly ended. Without hesitation, Macky sprang into action, racing toward the abandoned chapel. She forced her way through the dense canopy, breaking branches and bushes. The thorns clawed at her skin, leaving scratches and cuts, but she barely noticed. Her sole focus was reaching Arch as quickly as possible, her heart pounding with fear.

★・・・・・・・・・ ・・・・・・★

Upon reaching the chapel's entrance, Macky didn't hesitate. She heaved the broken door open with all her strength, her breath catching in her throat as she stepped inside. The dim light revealed a chaotic scene: Arch's barely conscious body sprawled on the cold floor, surrounded by scattered belongings and pools of blood.

His wrist was cut again, the fresh wound stark against his pale skin. Panic surged through Macky as she rushed to his side, gently cradling his head in her lap.

Without a second thought, she removed her tank top, leaving herself in just her sports bra. Motivated by the sight of his injury, she quickly wrapped the tank top around his bleeding wrist, tightening it carefully to stem the flow of blood while ensuring it didn't cut off circulation.

"Archie, baby... Please wake up. I'm here now, please... I'm begging you!" Macky cried out, her voice trembling in desperation. Her eyes, red and glistening with unshed tears, mirrored the effort to stay composed.

At the sound of Macky's voice, Arch's body shuddered, and his eyes fluttered open slowly. "Ashton... I'll never be like him," he choked out, his voice shaking and breaking as tears streamed down his face. "He's cool, and our parents-especially Mom-are so proud of him, but never of me. Never me..."