Maisie’s hand grazed mine as we walked through the quiet forest.

Everytime I think about grabbing her hand and holding it tightly in mine. And then I remember that I can’t fall for her.

Maisie sighs, looking down at her hand. “Can I tell you something?” She whispers.

My heart starts beating, all I’ve wanted was Maisie to trust me with something. Not a secret, I guess I just want to know her more.

I nod, stopping in the middle of the green trees. “Of course.” I reply, “You can tell me anything. I’ll listen.”

Maisie half smiles, her blonde hair pulled into a tight pony tail just like everyday.

“I’m scared.” Maisie’s voice cracks on the last word. “Because I don’t think you’re real.”

I part my lips, reaching out for Maisie. She shakes her head, dodging my outstretched hand.

“No,” she mutters. “Don’t try to convice me that you’re not just a part of my mind.”

“Maisie!” I almost yell her name, startling the birds in the trees above us.

“Davian,” Maisie’s eyes pool with tears. “The me that you know . . .” She pauses looking down at her left wrist. “It’s the real me.”

I’ve never felt this lost. Maisie always explains everything in detail. Always.

“And I’ve never let anyone in,” Maisie’s voice trembles as she rubs her wrist. “Before my mom died I went to threapy. For anxiety, I have medication, I have . . . Problems.”

I’m not sure what Maisie is trying to tell me anymore. Maybe she’s trying to scare me away, which is crazy. I could never be scared of her. Never.

Maisie raises her left wrist up to me, relving a small red line. A scar, tracing her wrist like a bracelet.

I reach out, gently grabbing her wrist. “Did you do this?” I ask, suddenly I feel tears creeping into my eyes.

Maisie nods, tears sliding down her perfect face. “Before I lost my mom I couldn’t make conversation.” Maisie contuines. “I didn’t have any friends, I was so alone that one night . . .”

Maisie trails off, I hold her wrist, staring at the scar like it will make it vanish. I can’t beileve that she’d ever hurt herself. I don’t want her to.

“I went into my mom’s sewing room,” Maisie whispers. “She had some knives that were burried deep into this pantry. I grabbed one, and held it against my skin. I was scared to cut . . . I was scared.”

Maisie starts sobbing now, raising her free hand to her eyes.

I drop Maisie’s wrist, pulling her close to me. I press my hand against her head, shutting my eyes as her tears soak my shoulder.

“I couldn’t talk to anyone at school,” Maisie cries, her arms limp at her sides. “I was so alone. How can I talk to you?” Maisie pauses, taking in a deep breath. “It’s because you’re in my mind.”

I shake my head, “Maisie I promise you I’m real.”

“How?” Maisie chokes out. “I’ve never connect with someone like I have with you.”

I’m not sure what the differnce between me and other people in Maisie’s life. But I have a feeling that maybe what I think is right.

“I kept trying,” I whisper. “I didn’t give up on you . . I’m not sure what other people did but I know I didn’t let you go.”

I feel Maisie’s head moving up and down agaisnt my shoulder. “Thank you.” She sobs quietly. “For everything.”

Her arms crawl up my back, wrapping tightly around my neck. I burry my face into her hair, breathing in the perfect smell of her coconut shampoo.

“I’ll never give up on you.” I mumble, closing my eyes.

Maisie doesn’t say anything, but I don’t need her to. All I want to do is hold her until I die.

(Hey!! For anyone who has liked these I’m wondering if you think I should continue the story even farther. 5 or more likes for me to keep it going. I’m just not sure if this is a crowd pleaser, and I’m trying to find what is. Thank you!!!)