Cold | Suicidal Todoroki

7 | Paranoia

This story is not intended to promote or encourage actions/behaviors such as suicide, self-harm, abuse, violence, or substance abuse.

Day 24

It hurts. I can never sit still in class when I know everyone is worried about me. Probably catching glances at me. Analyzing me. Observing me. I sometimes feel like I can't breathe when I start to overthink how much they know. When I got home from school today, Endeavor didn't beat me. I'm still terrified. What does that mean? Is he going to beat me twice as much tomorrow? I was so anxious the entire day. I thought every sound I heard from my room was Endeavor coming closer to beat me. I almost wish he did beat me. The paranoia is suffocating.

Another thing is knowing that my classmates have assumptions about me from evidence, but while I can infer what those assumptions are, I never really know. What do they really think of me? Are they paying closer attention to how I respond to them and what I do? Have they been talking to each other about what they think?

Rather than beating me, Endeavor told me that I should just kill myself. I'm a worthless object that only brings the people around me down. I never should've been born. I'm not needed. The only good thing about me is that it's perfectly justifiable to beat the shit out of me. I don't deserve the Quirks I was born with. All I've done is disappoint and disgrace the Todoroki name. I'm not a human. I'm a thing. An object. A toy. Trash. Disposable. Replaceable. Ineffectual. But that's why it's fun to beat me. It shows me my place. Reminds me of what I am. Cheap entertainment. A brief stir in the placid pond of boredom.

But the words no longer hurt. They used to leave gashes in my chest, but I've heard it all so much that I don't really care anymore. Honestly, I've started to believe what he keeps telling me.

I thought about what he initially told me for a while. Maybe it really would be better if I killed myself. But I have friends. That would be too cruel. Even though I'm constantly paranoid that everyone is looking at me and seeing the truth but keeping their mouths shut about it, I would never want to hear the news that anyone at U.A. committed suicide. I would be sad.

I've been more reserved ever since Mom went to the hospital, but the general feeling of being down has... I don't know how to describe it. I know I'm not myself. I don't feel good, but I don't feel sad. I just feel mentally exhausted. It's less that I feel anything like sorrow, and more that everything just feels so heavy. Like every thought weighs me down. A sinking feeling inside of me. I don't feel like doing anything. I don't want to talk to my friends, but I never particularly felt like it to begin with. Even sitting on my futon and doing absolutely nothing sounds easier. Easier... Living has begun to feel like a burden that keeps growing with each passing day.

But I think I've gotten better at disguising how I really feel. I don't want to see their worried looks. I've started to pretend like I'm much more interested in what they're talking about than I really am. Like my interests just so happen to align with their own interests. It surprises them a little at first, but they always smile and look eager to talk about it more. I don't mind listening. It just takes a lot out of me to do it every day. But as long as it makes them happy, it's okay.