Mental Health Creepypastas

Mental Health Pt. 1

Just a few more minutes. Then I can go home and ward them off for good.

The scritch scratch of my pencil on paper is starting to get to me. I don't want to continue writing useless crap anymore. Or, at least, what I consider useless. I need to go home to deal with them. I haven't been able to completely ward them off in weeks, and they're starting to affect my nerves more and more. I never have time to make them go away.

First Period: Math

Second Period: English - Honors

Third period: History - Honors

And finally, fourth- my favorite: Creative writing

Then homework. Mountains of it.

I haven't had time to make them disappear and they come back for longer each time. But, the more marks I make the longer they stay away. That's a sort of philosophy I've stuck with for years. My arms are pretty much mangled at this point, but as long as it keeps them away, I don't care. I just need to keep them away.

Something about school has always been a second home to me. Maybe it's the support system, or the peers of like-minded (But not really like minded) individuals? Then again, most of the kids at school were more focused on video games rather than the well-being of their so called "loved ones". They're always preoccupied about who's going to lay them down in bed next and who will take who's shirt off. That's most of the guys, and some of the girls. But the small group of people- people like me, who are willing to get through the years of torturous amounts of homework to get to their goals are... tolerable. At best.

Oh god, it's happening again. I ask to go to the bathroom and race to it in a frenzy, yanking the pocket knife out of my pocket and rolling up my sleeve, and...

Sweet relief.
The darkness fades from the corners of my eyes, leaving my vision undisturbed once more. I wipe away any blood, and walk back to class with a stinging arm. I know they're following me closely, watching my every move. All I can do is hope to god I make it through the day.