Left Arm Rubies

The left sleeve of my shirt is stained with blood. To avoid curious glances from annoying persons I covered my sleeve with a piece of cloth with the aid of my right hand. Then I realized that what I did was stupid. I would attract more attention by covering up the blood stained sleeve. What would be a perfect example of an eye catcher than a person trying to hide something with his right hand? Me.
I found myself a bench and sat down.
There I waited; I waited for her.

The amusement park is full. Aside from the noise that’s coming from the wheels of the rides, there is the irritating and senseless bickering of the people: Little children screaming with all their might and parents shouting after them”Come eat!” they would say. All these prevented me from eating in peace. I looked at her. She’s not eating her meal. She’s looking down and is smiling cautiously. She’s messaging someone.
“Too noisy, isn’t it?”
“Nope.”
“Why don’t you eat?”
“I was just looking at my phone.”
“Who is it?”
She didn’t answer me right away. She looked at her slice of pizza and took a bite. She didn’t have to answer me. I knew who it was.
Jealousy was eating me.
I looked at her and told her to stop texting him. That I’m jealous and that I’m weary over him.
“Just a friend. But for you, I’ll delete his number. I wont text him.. ok?”
“OK.”
I gave her a kiss on her forehead..

Aside from being annoying, people are being very inquisitive. They keep on looking at my arm. I can't blame them though, the stain is getting larger. I took a cigarette from my pocket and lit it. It’s been an hour since I sat down on the bench and people can’t stop staring. I said to myself, "what’s wrong with these people, I’m sure they have seen blood before."
I smoked my cigarette slowly. It was going to be a long wait.

Darby missed our exam in Algebra. In fact, he already missed three of our classes. It was usual for him to be tardy, but it was unusual of him to miss an exam and be absent from class.
We are now having our break. He arrived just before the bell rang. His face was pale and his demeanor was languid. I asked him why he was late. He beckoned me to a corner in the hallway. I followed him. When we were out of ear shot, he told me he had a problem, then he showed me a piece of bloody cloth, and then he showed me his chest. It had a puncture wound. Blood was still oozing out of the hole when he showed it to me.
“I stabbed myself.”
“That’s deep!”
“I know; girlfriend troubles…”
“It’s still bleeding!”

I’m on my third cigarette. There must have been another hour and a half before she arrives. It sucks that I was waiting all alone. My stomach hurts, I’ve been waiting since lunch and I dare not eat or go to a fast food restaurant. I have to be sure that she sees me waiting. I won’t miss the chance to win her back.
I used to say to myself that I’m indestructible. What happened to Darby won’t happen to me. But I was wrong. Here I am, burning my lips and torching my lungs while I’m waiting in vain for her, waiting to know if she still wants me, wondering if she still cares.
Why did it happen, too much studying? I hadn’t found the time to spend more time with her. It wouldn’t have happen if I just fetched her or at least showed that I cared. Now, I’m fighting for her and waiting.
I squeezed my arm. It hurts.

He went to his girlfriend’s school to confront her about her infidelity. It turns out that he learned about his demise through a friend of a friend. He wanted to know if it was true. It was.
His stab wound was due to his ex’s lack of concern for their relationship and for his well-being. Darby threatened to stab himself if his ex didn’t explain why she left him and if she didn’t give him his chance. She didn’t care.
“Go ahead. . .”
She just walked away from him with disgust as he stabbed himself with a pen knife.
“She just walked away like it was nothing. Like she didn’t care.”
I looked at Darby’s face and smirked. I found myself musing over his scars. Aside from his recent puncture wound, he has three parallel scars on his left forearm that's now healed. He cut himself with a blade when his parents reprimanded him about something.
“That thing that you did! It’s stupid.”
“I know.”
“You could have killed yourself.”
“Better physical than emotional. We’re men, not sissies.”

I got another cigarette from my pocket and lit it. My back stings from all the smoking. If I lose her, that would be the end of me. If my friends warned me in advance, I could have prevented this from escalating. They knew, and they didn’t say anything. That’s the reason why she didn’t say, “I love you.” I’ve been saying it for three days, yet I got no response. The hope that she still wants me haunts me as I smoke my cigarette.
“What if she likes him better? I would love to punch them both, those sissies. I would really punch them.”
Then someone touched me on my shoulder. I looked up and saw her. Her eyes are all puffy. It’s been three hours. Three hours of waiting. Now it’s here.

We found a secluded area in the campus and set off to work. I sat down on a bench and pulled my left sleeve up. Darby is smiling. I punched him in his arm and told him to buzz off. He pulled a blade out of his bag and a bottle of alcohol.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes.”
“Alrighty.”
He made the blade touch my skin, and then with one swift swipe, he opened my arm up. Blood immediately went oozing out of my arm. Then he poured alcohol all over my cut.
“We’re men, not sissies.”
“Better physical than emotional. I told you it would happen to you.”

She saw my left sleeve and sighed. She sat down beside me and held my arm, and then she kissed me.