My strange addiction (repub and continued)

Fresh

~ Dean's POV ~

I walked down the hall and headed for my room. I pushed open the door and took a few steps and inhaled and exhaled as thoughts of the forbidden I yearned for rushed through my mind. I sat on the end of my bed and crawled into a comfortable position. I leaned down and put my elbows on my knees and covered my eyes, imagining ways to make myself feel better. The thoughts of everything make me bury my face more in my hands looking for some kind of comfort. I turned to my end table. Looking at my picture of me and that sweet blue-eyed boy and that long-haired brother of mine. They looked happy in that photo. I stared at him and let out a short breath of air. I got up and walked to my door looking up and down the hall to make sure Sammy wasn't out there. I closed the door, but not all the way. I walked over to the photo and flipped it back and felt the soft fabric on the back. I ran my hand over the screws and took the frame apart. Revealing my favorite trinket. I took the sharp blade and twirled it in my fingers. I couldn't help but feel the urge to use it. I've done a lot wrong. But I can make it all go away. Even if it is temporary. I ran my index finger around the edges. I started walking towards the bathroom. Once I was out of my room, I hid it between my fingers and opened the bathroom door. I put it on the right side of the sink. I put my hands on the cold ceramic and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked myself in the eyes, tracing my figure with my eyes. Disgusting. You should be ashamed. I took a deep breath and thought about it. This would be three years after the drain. All those days and months of recovery. It is gone. I rolled the left sleeve up, moving the slightly torn flannel. But without hesitation, I grabbed my tool in my right hand and placed it on my left inner arm. Tracing the old white lines up and down like you're reading a book. I pushed a corner and felt slight relief as I felt the cold, sharp metal look at my skin. There it is, that pain, oh how I missed that familiar feeling. I slowly drugged it into my body, maintaining the same pressure. It wasn't deep enough to seriously harm me, but for now it was enough. I started to feel a lot better. More. I went back to the beginning of the first wound. I saw the red leak and lifted the cord. I moved up and to the right I started again and drug it towards my body with the same pressure as the first one. Then again to the left of the first. On the other hand. I watched the blood begin to pool and drip. I saw how each drop fell on the white ceramic. I looked at myself and looked at myself in the mirror. Focusing on the green in my eyes and lowering the red on my arm. I flushed the toilet so as not to look suspicious. I put it down and it fell there with a slight thump. Then I turned on the water and began to drink water from a cup in the blood that fell into the sink. I started to wash the blood off my arm, the rust color started to fade from my arm. Then I rinsed the blade. I rolled up my sleeve and pressed my wounds, trying to stop the bleeding. Then I grabbed my destructive but nice tool and went back into my room. I put the blade back on the frame and set it up really well. I sat on the end of my bed. And let a low feeling wash over me

I felt fresh.