chapter 2

Author’s note: I have some poems in the story, but if you don’t like poems or don’t want to read it, you can skip them. You won’t miss a thing in the story, it’s just that I wanted to write some poems by the story

(Zoë POV)

I started to tell Mr. Lewis the whole story. ‘When I feel down I usually listen to music, read a book or I start writing. This always helped me. I could focus on something else, or I could put my feelings into words. One day I felt worse than before. I couldn’t concentrate on my book. Every song had something what ruined my mood even more. I felt anger and I couldn’t write a single word. I didn’t know what to do to feel better.’ After that I looked up. Mr. Lewis was truly listening. I could see worries in his eyes. Again. However, I couldn’t go back and I thought he would understand it. I wasn’t able to find the right words to say what I wanted to say. I didn’t know how to say, or what to say. Instead of telling him I rolled up my left sleep a bit.

He saw a few scratches and some scars. I have the bad luck to get scars very soon. Mr. Lewis knew I did this to myself. I always stayed away from my wrists, but that was one of the only edges I had. Mr. Lewis came a little closer. ‘I was desperate’ I said. ‘I thought it would help me, just one time. I thought I could forget everything, focus on the physical pain. But, it helps just a little…’ I said. ‘I… I… This is heavy’ Mr. Lewis said. He rolled up my sleeve a bit further and saw everything. I started to panic a bit. ‘Please, don’t report. You promised me I could trust you’ I said, with a little voice. I was afraid for what he’d do. ‘I won’t, for now’ he promised. ‘But, I’ll have to do when this gets worse. I mean, when you start to cut deeper or come closer to your wrists, or if you become suicidal too’ he said with a soft voice. I understood, I knew this was on the edge of what wouldn’t be reported and I knew some others would report.

‘I want to help you Zoë’ Mr. Lewis said. I saw he really cared, he wasn’t saying this because he felt like he had to. ‘Thank you. It won’t get worse. I’m glad I could tell you and that you won’t report. I promise I will try to stop once’ I said.

The last break of today I was talking with my friends. ‘OMG, did anyone of you have English today?’ Mia asked. ‘The new teacher is so hot!’ she said. My friends were a bit disappointed now that they haven’t seen him yet. I laughed a bit. ‘I know, he is extremely hot, and he’s kind.’ I added. ‘He’s my mentor this year’ I said. ‘Lucky you’ Lucy said.

When I came home the house was empty, like always. I made some dinner and started to make an easy dinner when I ate a few cookies. I hadn’t much homework today so I didn’t know what to do.

I started to think about what happened today. For the first time I told someone my whole story. For the first time I trusted someone. For the first time someone broke through the wall.

Some words came up in my mind and I really needed to write them down.

   

I was building for months

    A wall so no one could get behind

    Brick for brick to the sky

    No one got through it

    It was safe for me

    I could cry behind it

    A smile on my face   

    Tears behind the wall

    Then you came into my life

    You broke down the wall

    You replaced it behind you

    So you could see through it

(Mr. Lewis POV)

I was worried about Zoë. From the first time I saw her I wanted to get to know her better. She was a bit shy. I could see in her eyes she had to go through a lot. After our chat I understand and I felt the need to get to know her more. I could see she was a strong girl. She coped with everything very well, except the cutting-thing. I barely could understand why she did it, but I tried to understand it. There was a little part of me that understood it very well. Some people go sporting when they feel bad, she cuts herself. Her explanation made it a little bit clear.  

The rest of the day was a bit weird. I couldn’t stop thinking about Zoë. I shouldn’t think about her this much and this way, but I did. I was glad when I could go home. I made some dinner and drank a cup of coffee.

I started searching on the internet, how I could help Zoë the best. I really wanted to help her, but I didn’t know how. Thankfully the internet gave me some advice. I was wondering what Zoë was doing. Would she care enough about herself, would she try to have a good time? Was she alone, or did she spend some time with her friends? Would she think about me, like I thought about her?

‘Stop it Dom! She’s a student!’ I said to myself. ‘You’re not allowed to think of her like this!’