Cry a little to be fine ~TodoBaku~

Chapter 2: silence is the mind's best friend

TW // self harm, mentions of homophobia, use of f-slur, mentions of paedophilic tendencies

Katsuki Bakugo

Sitting on the cold shower floor was...actually quite refreshing after crying. Huddling myself into the corner for warmth that I knew could be found in another room, I shivered, holding my tiny frame close to me. My legs were sore, tired from walking and dragging the suitcase, and my shoulder ached a lot too, my shoulder blade protruding significantly.

I had nothing else to do, so why not just sit here? It was nice, actually, and my mind started to wander. Back to the days when Father would beat me so badly I couldn't walk, when Mother had made me eat raw chicken as a meal, when Father had refused to let me leave his sight when we had to go out...

They were all bad memories...but a fondness had attached itself to me regarding them. I knew deep down it was wrong, but...I'd just gotten so used to it that it was normal.. and I had convinced myself that they were right to beat me. That I was a disappointment, that I was lazy, that I was stupid....and that I was a filthy fag whore. I hadn't actually come out to them, it was more just that they said it as an excuse to beat me for. I didn't mind, I was disgusting. Being gay was disgusting. That's what Father and Mother said, anyway...

Another thing about me living alone was that nobody could beat me now. I wouldn't have to bite my lip and not cry every night, wouldn't have to cover us the bruises in the morning. But...what else'll happen? My life used to be "home, school, home", but now my life is just like "blank, blank, school, blank, blank."

Who or what was blank? Why did I have to feel so empty without the beatings? I didn't enjoy them, so why was I already.......missing them?

Standing slowly, I dug and all too familiar bag out of my suitcase, and lay the gauze roll to one side. About ten should do it, I feel kinda ok today...

I had started cutting when I was eleven, and had never stopped. It used to be just every few days or so, but by the time it was my seventeenth birthday, my left arm looked like it'd been ravaged by animals. Still though, I kept cutting there, leaving my right one completely untouched. That was my clean canvas, and I wanted to keep it that way until I desperately needed it. I scraped the blade over my left arm, smiling at the familiar painful feeling. I had gotten to a point where the pain meant nothing to me. Cutting was just my way of reminding myself how useless I was, because I couldn't even hurt myself properly.

Once I was satisfied, and a little blood trickled down my arm, I wrapped myself up in gauze and walked out of the bathroom, inspecting the television remote. I'd never been allowed to use it back home, but knew that Father had always pressed the big red button in the corner, and so I tried that. The tv came to life, and I smiled and giggled with self achievement, before realising I had no idea how to change the channel...

Fucking useless

Fetching a worn hoodie out of the wardrobe, I threw it in before hearing a knock at the door.

"Come in extra!"

"Bro! It's me..." the red haired loser said, and I just shrugged. "How did I know you weren't that shitty pink haired girl or something?"

"You really think Mina's gonna come see you~?"

"Ew, fuck outta here with that!"

"Relax bro, I'm joking! We're all doing a movie night in Yao-Momo's room tonight, you comin'"

"Like fuck..."

"Aw, brooooo....it's not worth going if you don't..."

"The fuck? The movie will still be on with or without me, fucker!"