Ƭɦҽɾҽ WιƖƖ Ƈσɱҽ α RʋƖҽɾ, Wɦσʂҽ Ɓɾσw ιʂ lαιԃ ιղ Ƭɦσɾղ 👑 ƠƇ Ɓαƈƙʂƭσɾყ -[BOOK 1/2]

ƒιⱱҽ

TW// cussing, throwing up, crying, self harm, blood, cuts, wanting to die

Ash's POV

"Where- Where is a restroom?" I asked shakily, covering my mouth with my hand. "Are you alright?" The king asked. I nodded. "I just- I need to use the restroom." My voice wobbled and it was obvious that I was sick. "Nurse, take her to the nearest restroom."

"You majesty, that would be your private restroom." The nurse said. "Ok, then. Take her there. It's fine, it's just a restroom." The king replied.

The nurse nodded and quickly motioned for me to follow her, so I did. She led me to a restroom, opened the door, shooed me in, and closed it. She said something but I couldn't make out what it was as I was already hurling over the toilet.

God, I hate puking. It's the worst. There wasn't anything in my stomach so I was just puking up my stomach acid. Bleh.

I flushed the ick down the toilet and washed my hands. I then noticed a small pack of razor blades sitting on the edge of the tub. It looked like someone had been putting caulk on the rim of the tub and was trimming it to make it perfectly even since it was the kings bathroom.

Only one of the razors was used, and it wouldn't hurt if I just...took one...right? And maybe used it right now? I mean, it's obvious that I was getting sick, so everyone will just assume I was gone for a while because of that.

And I like how blades feel against my skin. The sting is calming and therapeutic, and makes me feel better about the fact that the world hates me.

I sat on the cold, white, tile floor and rolled my pant legs up above my thighs. It's better to do it there, because people aren't gonna see my thighs.

...

One cut...for troubling Jeb that very first time when he took me home.

Two...for being the reason Abi got her arm cut by my father.

Three...for killing my mother.

Four...because I caused trouble and back-talked my father in front of everyone out there.

Five...for making that nurse care for my face and take me into this bathroom.

Six...for fighting back and not letting father kill me earlier.

Seven...for still being alive.

Eight...for...uhm...for doing this to myself right now.

Nine...

Ten...
Why am I still going?

Eleven...
I can't even think of any reasons.

Twelve...
What's wrong with me?

Thirteen...
It's just so nice feeling.

Fourteen...
It makes me feel better.

Fifteen...
I should take off this hot hoodie, probably.

Sixteen...

Seventeen...

Eighteen...

ninet-

knock knock knock

"Ash? Are you ok? You've been in there for way too long." I heard Jeb say from outside the door. I looked down, seeing my thighs and arms covered in blood.