"Mike?" Micky whispered. "How'd you get that?"

Mike frowned and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but it seemed to dawn on him that Micky was talking about the scar on his arm. He huffed and pulled down his sleeve.

"M-Mike?"

Nothing.

"Please talk to me, I—"

"Will you shut up?!" Mike snapped. Micky flinched. He was just as timid as he was six months ago, if not more so.

Mike seemed to realize he'd hurt Micky and sighed. "I'm sorry...do you really wanna know?"

Micky nodded.

Mike laughed, though it was low and dark. "Tried killin' myself by slicin' my wrists a few months ago. November, I think. Bastards caught me and decided to slice me up more. Sewed me up before I bled out though, they said it'd 'teach me a lesson.'"

Micky covered his mouth in horror, feeling sick.

Mike got up and left the room.

This book already somehow has 100 votes after being up for a day and Idek how that happened, but thank y'all