Ranboo angst

Slit wrists

I think it's quite obvious to what this story is about. Just a short note, I am very grateful to everyone that's read this. I hope you are enjoying this so far!

Tw:
Self harm
Suicidal thoughts
Swearing probably
Mention of death

Third person:

He found it quite ironic how tears sting your eyes as they fall from your eyes. How smiling hurts you when you do it too much. Just shows how much pain emotion can cause.

Ranboo didn't have to worry about it though. He's not been able to feel anything since his parents were put in prison. He was now seventeen which meant he couldn't stay in the orphanage. It sucks, at least there he wouldn't be so alone.

Barely getting by, the orphan takes up whatever job he can. Currently, he is maintaining two part time jobs and streaming. He lost the other ones, mostly when he stood up to the bitch of a manager. God, I hate Karen's..

Ranboo Pov:

It was the weekend now, meaning I didn't have to go to work today. I guess that's nice..

Looking over at my phone screen, it states that the time was 3:00 pm. God my sleep schedule is scuffed, that's fourteen hours of sleep. Must've overworked again..

I was still in my work clothes so I clearly couldn't have bothered to change. Walking down the stairs, I passed the fridge not caring wether I starved or not and went directly to the knife drawer.

Swiftly, I clutch onto the largest steak knife and bring it to the flesh on my wrist.

One cut, for being a disappointment..

Two cuts, for not saving them..

Three cuts, for failing your classes..

Five cuts, for ignoring them

Six cuts, because you deserve pain..

Seven..

Eight..

Nine..

Ten..

Eleven..

Twelve..

My wrist oozed the familiar crimson liquid which bubbled as it dripped onto the tile beneath me. Knowing I couldn't risk getting caught, I took the roll of bandages off of the counter and began too cover the beatiful artworks that could be seen on pale flesh.

Many say that I am too mature for my age. I'm not suprised, the amount of toxicity I went through at such a young age. No wonder I became a minecraft youtuber..

To be fair, when I said that line back then. I told the truth. No one noticed the slight waver in my voice. Self deprication was always one of my coping mechanisms.

You see, my character is the one with memory issues, I can't have that. My mind refuses to forget my past. Sometimes, I imagine what it would be like to actually feel joy. The issue is that I'll never know.

Snapping out of the abyss I call my head, I recall that I should probably get back to starting my stream. Today I was meant to do a lore stream on the smp, I need to act as though I'm having a panic attack. Little does anyone know, I'm all to familiar with those. I just hope it goes the way I want it too..

Skipping to the scene..

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know what I'm going to do!?"

Pausing for suspense, I catch my breath once more and make sure that my microphone doesn't pick it up. Continuing the script, I begin to speak once more.