her with sad eyes.
“Chels, I’m sorry. If I hadn’t insisted on taking us into the forest today, you wouldn’t have lost your book.” he said sadly.
Chelsea shook her head and stepped toward Mason, edging in beside him on the corner of the bed. She rest her damp head on his shoulder.
“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I’ve been in such a funk over it. It’s stupid really. I just am afraid at who is looking at those pictures. They were my most vulnerable drawings” she said.
Mason looked up at her and frowned.
“I saw the pictures of you in there, they weren’t nice pictures Chels, you hanging, you cutting yourself” he said shaking his head.
Chelsea nodded and put her arm around him as she turned to him.
“I want to show you something, it is going to shock you, but it will help you to understand why I drew those pictures” she said.
Mason frowned again but nodded his head. Chelsea stood from the bed and opened the towel she had wrapped around her. Trying to control her hands from shaking as she stood naked in front of Mason, his eyes widened as he saw the scars that dotted her body, lines that crossed across her stomach and the raised red scars that ran down the length of her thighs. Mason looked up at her with his mouth ajar.
“Chels? Where did these come from?” he said reaching out tentatively to run his fingers lightly across the old wounds on her stomach.
Chelsea dropped her head and watched his hand tracing the scars that brought her so much pain to look at.
“When I was twelve I started to cut myself as a way to escape what Carl was doing to me. As I bled it released something, I don’t know what, but it made me feel better” she said.
She knew that Mason wouldn’t understand and she was shocked when he looked up at her with tears in his eyes, shaking his head.
“Chels. My God. This breaks my heart” he said quietly.
“I think part of me did it because he hated it so much, he would make comments on how the wounds made me unattractive, I couldn’t put on weight no matter how much I ate, I tried not washing but nothing stopped him, then when I was sixteen I realised that even wounding myself wasn’t making him stop” she said.
“What made you stop?” he asked touching the most recent wounds on her thighs, it was there that she had cut the deepest.
“One day in art class I leaned up to get something and my dress rode up my thigh. Brenda saw this one” Chelsea said pointing to the biggest scar she had “I had accidently cut a lot deeper than I was intending and it got a bit of an infection in it.”
Mason continued to run his finger along the scar shaking his head.
“Anyway she asked me how I got it and I just blurted it out that I had done it myself. I guess I was scared because of the infection and stuff.” Chelsea sniffed back a tear at the memory of the concern that was written all over Brenda’s face. “Her boyfriend is a nurse, so she had him bring in some dressings and some stuff to clean it and she looked after the wound. After it was healed she made me promise that instead of cutting myself, I would draw out my pain instead”
Chelsea gingerly touched the scars and put her hand over Mason’s as he ran his fingers along the various wounds that dotted her body.
“I didn’t want to disappoint her, she was the only person that I had ever come close to letting in like that; Dylan didn't even know that I cut. So I did what she asked and started drawing out my feelings. That’s why that book means so much to me. Over the last year every time he touched me, every time I felt like ending it all by taking my own life, I drew it out”
Mason looked up at Chelsea as a tear ran down his cheek.
“It helped. I stopped and soon I enjoyed drawing it out far more and got a lot out of the drawing. Brenda would check the book every time I had the class and it was our secret”
Mason suddenly stood and pulled her into his chest holding her tight. She had once seen a
“Chels, I’m sorry. If I hadn’t insisted on taking us into the forest today, you wouldn’t have lost your book.” he said sadly.
Chelsea shook her head and stepped toward Mason, edging in beside him on the corner of the bed. She rest her damp head on his shoulder.
“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I’ve been in such a funk over it. It’s stupid really. I just am afraid at who is looking at those pictures. They were my most vulnerable drawings” she said.
Mason looked up at her and frowned.
“I saw the pictures of you in there, they weren’t nice pictures Chels, you hanging, you cutting yourself” he said shaking his head.
Chelsea nodded and put her arm around him as she turned to him.
“I want to show you something, it is going to shock you, but it will help you to understand why I drew those pictures” she said.
Mason frowned again but nodded his head. Chelsea stood from the bed and opened the towel she had wrapped around her. Trying to control her hands from shaking as she stood naked in front of Mason, his eyes widened as he saw the scars that dotted her body, lines that crossed across her stomach and the raised red scars that ran down the length of her thighs. Mason looked up at her with his mouth ajar.
“Chels? Where did these come from?” he said reaching out tentatively to run his fingers lightly across the old wounds on her stomach.
Chelsea dropped her head and watched his hand tracing the scars that brought her so much pain to look at.
“When I was twelve I started to cut myself as a way to escape what Carl was doing to me. As I bled it released something, I don’t know what, but it made me feel better” she said.
She knew that Mason wouldn’t understand and she was shocked when he looked up at her with tears in his eyes, shaking his head.
“Chels. My God. This breaks my heart” he said quietly.
“I think part of me did it because he hated it so much, he would make comments on how the wounds made me unattractive, I couldn’t put on weight no matter how much I ate, I tried not washing but nothing stopped him, then when I was sixteen I realised that even wounding myself wasn’t making him stop” she said.
“What made you stop?” he asked touching the most recent wounds on her thighs, it was there that she had cut the deepest.
“One day in art class I leaned up to get something and my dress rode up my thigh. Brenda saw this one” Chelsea said pointing to the biggest scar she had “I had accidently cut a lot deeper than I was intending and it got a bit of an infection in it.”
Mason continued to run his finger along the scar shaking his head.
“Anyway she asked me how I got it and I just blurted it out that I had done it myself. I guess I was scared because of the infection and stuff.” Chelsea sniffed back a tear at the memory of the concern that was written all over Brenda’s face. “Her boyfriend is a nurse, so she had him bring in some dressings and some stuff to clean it and she looked after the wound. After it was healed she made me promise that instead of cutting myself, I would draw out my pain instead”
Chelsea gingerly touched the scars and put her hand over Mason’s as he ran his fingers along the various wounds that dotted her body.
“I didn’t want to disappoint her, she was the only person that I had ever come close to letting in like that; Dylan didn't even know that I cut. So I did what she asked and started drawing out my feelings. That’s why that book means so much to me. Over the last year every time he touched me, every time I felt like ending it all by taking my own life, I drew it out”
Mason looked up at Chelsea as a tear ran down his cheek.
“It helped. I stopped and soon I enjoyed drawing it out far more and got a lot out of the drawing. Brenda would check the book every time I had the class and it was our secret”
Mason suddenly stood and pulled her into his chest holding her tight. She had once seen a
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