Vent oneshots with my comfort characters and kins

Character: Camilo Madrigal

TW! Selfharm, troubles with sleep (not sure about the last one, just being careful)

God. Life is unfair.

Rewallt he shouldn't be saying that, he should be happy that he got a gift.

But that's the problem.

The gift he got is something that he can't help but cling to no matter how much it hurts him. Always ends up thinking of as a positive when it fucks with him to the point he can't even see himself as worthy of anything he has.

But when things got especially bad he didn't tell. Didn't cry. Just hurt, and that was in more ways than one.

He picked up a pencil from a draw that Casita was surprisingly arrogant about opening. He knew he shouldn't of hurt himself in the bathroom...

Right Camilo! Get yourself on track! Currently he was just chewing at the metal, it needed to be sharp enough to scar- otherwise he wouldn't stop. After he had figured it sharp enough he gave a thought before bringing it to his thigh.

It stung- it hurt- he wanted to draw it back.

But it hurt in the right way.

Not emotional, he couldn't deal with that for another second.

But physical.

He didn't think, he couldn't think when he did this. He could only hurt, and maybe he liked it better that way. No matter how unhealthy, it was better to not think than think bad things.

It was better to force himself away from the fact he was useless and make himself useful by hurting himself.

Because it was always better when he hurt. He preffered himself facing this than anyone else.

He preffered hiding yjsn anyone else hiding.

Preffered the scars on him than on someone else.

The weight his cousins felt. The torture his sister went through.

The torture everyone else went through made his life a breeze.

Because his life was easy.

He gave his leg one last scar and kept himself still, ignoring the left over sting that rattled his thigh.

Funny how his family couldn't tell, I mean, all he had to do was eat an extra sitting of tia Julieta's cooking and he'd be fine.

With that he recognised his sense returning and forced himself onto the bed only to feel a sense of panic rush over him when he looked away from the empty space in his room.

That sense of panic didn't leave that night, only letting him sleep when he was to exhausted to fight back.

God. Life is shit.