Why care..? (Tommyinnit angst)

Good enough? Part 2

Tommys pov:

I end call with wilbur feeling like shit. The past few days had probably been my worst. The long days, Playing games, The long nights, editing videos was too much. Normally i would've been fine for people being mean to me, but at moment those insults hit right in the heart. Wilbur was spamming me with messages, but I ignored it. I went to the bathroom, and looked at myself in the mirror. I was skinny and had bags under my eyes.

丅ħ𝐞 ｒ𝒶𝐙𝕠ⓡ ᎥŜ 丨Ň 𝕋ℍ𝐄 ℃𝓐𝐁𝐢Ň𝐞ｔ

ⓨØ𝓤 ⓚ𝐧𝔬𝐖 𝕪ⓞＵ 山𝓪𝓝𝓽 𝕥Ħⓘ𝐒

𝐲Øⓤ 𝓴𝓃𝓸Ŵ 𝓎𝕠υ Đｅ𝕤ⓔʳ𝕍є Ｔ𝔥丨𝓢

几ⓞβØ𝒹¥ lƗк𝐄𝕊 𝔶๏ᑌ

ｙØⓤя'Ｅ 𝓹Ａ𝓽ℍέｔ𝓲ℂ

𝐲ό𝕌'𝓻є 𝔀ｅαķ

ⓉＨέⓨ ｈ𝓐ţẸ Ўⓞ𝓤

𝐃Ⓞ Ⓘт

ᗪσ 𝓲Ｔ

The voices would'nt stop. They kept saying things over and over again. I took the razor out of the cabinet, and pulled up my sleeve. I hesitated for a moment."is this they right thing?" I thought. I took a deep breath, and pulled the sharp object across my skin. I felt Immediate pain, And blood started to drip down in the sink. I winced, but slowly that pain started to please me.

 I deserve this.

I took the razor, and i cut my skin again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

I cut until i thought i had no more blood to bleed. I looked at my arms, and was horrified with the sight. Hundreds upon hundreds of cuts scattered around the arms. I fell backwards, and into the wall. I started to sob, not to loud so i would'nt wake up my parents.

They would beat the shit out of me.