~{Skephalo}~oneshots

Blood red [A]

!Tw: Self harm, depressive shit in general!

ALSO
please, I beg of you, do not harm yourself. If you do, please at least take care of it, making sure that rust doesn't form on whatever you're using and that you cover your wounds properly so it doesn't get infected. It's an addiction, one that's hard to get out of. And I'm speaking from experience. Please, no matter what people say or do, don't resort to hurting yourself. You can vent to family or friends, and if you can't tell them, maybe find ways to get better online. And if all else fails, and you just need to talk to someone, my DMS are always open :)

P.S- Education on Self Harming and the layers of skin is at the bottom if you are interested, as it is mentioned in this story.

I really do love and care for you guys, and I hope your day/night Is great. <33

...

"Skeppy?"

Zak lifted his head off of his desk slowly, finding little strength to do such a small action.

"Hmm?"

"Are you ok? You've been quite for awhile..." A concerned voice asked, filling the once dull silence.

"I... yeah."

Silence, once again, took over the call.

Zak sighed as he pushed himself off his desk and leaned back into his chair, looking to the bare ceiling.

What was the point?

He swore that yesterday went exactly like this as well.

He felt an overwhelming urge, and irritating, irrational urge, to do something.

Just...

Something.

To let it out, to scream till his lungs gasped for air and his throat felt rough and dry.

But he couldn't.

He knew he couldn't.

He had thought day and night; what would happen if he suddenly yelled at Bad? Hurt him, or anyone he knew in general?

Would something change?

...Would it even matter?

"Skeppy? If you don't wanna continue, we can record tomorrow."
Bad's voice was gentle and comforting, but if anything, the statement made Zak more angry.

Now you're wasting other people's time, Zak, you pathetic piece of shit.

"I-i-No, we can continue." Zak mumbled out, trying to mask his feelings.

"Ok,uh, record countdown from 3, K?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Ok, 3..2...1"

Zak pressed the record button and pushed out the most energetic, happy voice he could make.

"WHAT'S UP, GUYS?"

The voice hurt his throat, but it didn't matter.

He didn't matter.

While the two were recording, Zak saw something shiny in the corner of his eyes; His pencil sharpener, laying by his pen and pencils.

No matter how many times he tore his eyes away from it, he always found himself wondering what he could do with it.

He kept chatting with Darryl, trying to keep his mind in the game, but soon, his curiosity got to him.