Cigarette under moonlight (bxb)

22

TW- Self-harm. If it's too much, then skip it, peeps.

~

'What am I doing?' I wondered. I was sitting in the back row today; I couldn't bear facing anyone. Some days why are some days so hard? My head is down, my legs are shaking, and I try to calm my nerves, but I feel colder. "My life," I think, "will it always be like this?" The professor's saying something; I should probably write it down, but my hands feel too light, and the pen feels too heavy.

Someone sits next to me, I raise my head to see, and Ivaan smiles at me. His doe eyes look down at me with concern; he is not wearing his glasses which makes his eyes look smaller than they are. I look at him, trying to take in his presence. His hair is tied up in a loose bun; he looks so good like this. Some strands of his hair fell into his face, and he tried to blow it away. When it didn't move, his mouth turned into a pout. It makes me want to pinch his small button nose.

"Hey."

"Hi.", I manage to say, my voice suddenly sounding too hoarse. I clear my throat, but even that feels like too much work.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asks. I shake my head and rest it on the bench. He sees my hands shaking. "Do you want me to hold your hand?" I move my hand, and he holds it throughout the lecture.

Please, I beg, to whom I'm not sure, but keep repeating it as a chant. My skin feels prickly as if it's not my own. Each muscle in my body starts tightening, and I want to fight. I want to fight myself, punch myself so hard that I pass out. I want to do something to make this pain go away, to make myself feel something else. I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this.

I startle the class as I abruptly get up, making the chair fall behind. But I couldn't care less, and I need to get out of here. Professor Awasthi looks concerned; he has always been too nice to me. Even when I leave his class without saying anything he goes back to teaching it. If it were someone else, I would have been yelled at.

I walk and walk, not knowing where I'm going; the campus is a bit empty at this hour, and people usually attend the afternoon class. As I step outside, I look up, and it looks like it will rain. I hope it does; I hope it rains and it washes away this guilt, this pain. Whatever I do, I'm never enough. However hard I try, I never rise above. Most of the time, I try to accept that; it doesn't matter if I'm not first or second, and it doesn't matter if my art is shitty or my project isn't good, I tried my best, so it's okay. But that's just saying I don't believe in that because I wasn't taught how to accept my failure. What am I if I don't reach my goals?

Before I know it, I'm entering a stationary and asking for a blade; the shopkeeper gives me a look. Not because he knows what I will use it for but because of how I look, a total mess. Hair all over the place, face covered in sweat and shivering. I don't know how much money I gave him, probably more than the price I and ran out of the shop. I run and run; I might look like an idiot.

I feel this sudden burst of adrenaline as I reach my house; fishing the keys out of my bag, I run to my room and lock it. I collapse on the floor, all the energy I have left my body. The same dreading is back again; I can feel something moving along my skin, my teeth clench, and my legs start trembling; I dig my nails into my neck. Something is in my body. I need it out, and I need to feel something; I need it to stop—everything to stop. Taking the pack of blades out of my pocket, I stare at it. I take one out and keep the rest, hiding it behind my books.

"It's okay, it's okay, Aarav, everything will be okay.", This blade is so tiny; not even the size of my thumb but the pain it can cause, the things it can do, the life it can take. Just one small thing, but such a significant impact. And it is so addicting once you get in the habit. It's wrong, and it's unhealthy but also very tempting.

I change into shorts, sit on the floor, and roll it upward, exposing my thighs. There they are, the scars; they are light now, fainting away slowly. Oh, how I wish just like these, this anxiety also fades.

Sliding it on my skin, the burning sensation of pain is back. It's been some time, so it hurts. I make an extended straight cut, and slowly the blood makes its way, and although it stings and my leg has tightened, I feel good. I throw my head back and make another one, then another and another. The blood trickles down my leg, the part where I have cut filled with blood. I stop after the sixth one, almost panting and unable to move.

"Ah fuck, fuck!" I laugh, "This is so fucking stupid. Oh, it hurts, ha, it's fine, it's cool. Just get up and clean this. Come on, Aarav, slowly get up."

After giving myself some more pep talk and some self-loathing, I get up, limping from one side and take out the first aid. Dettol and cotton, clean the cut. Wipe it with a wet cloth and press it so the flow stops. I don't feel anything, the anxiety is gone, and the fear is gone. I feel light and relaxed. This is nice, I think. I want to hold onto this feeling forever.

But that doesn't happen; the guilt of cutting myself comes in. Why do I do this to myself? Why can't I usually talk about my problems? This world, those people, those feelings, I want to let go of all that.

Why am I so pathetic-

There's a knock on the door, my blood goes cold, and my heart starts to beat faster.

"Hey Rav", Dev calls out, "can you open the door?"

No, I can't. "Uh, why? What's up?"

"Just wanna hang out, you sound different, you okay, Rav?"

No, no, fuck. "Yeah, I'm okay, just relaxing, okay? I will talk later." I tried to sound as normal as I could.

There is a pause, and I think that he's gone. I sigh in relief.

"Aarav", Dev calls, his voice not friendly as before, "open your door."

I take a deep breath and calmly wipe the left remains of blood and keep the cloth in my drawer. Plaster a smile on my face and open the door.

"Hi"

"What were you doing?" he asks, his voice still serious.

"Nothing, just lying down-"

"Aarav, please don't play this game with me, alright."

A/N

Oh my baby Aarav, why am I doing this T-T Also, if any mistakes are there please don't mind them. I will try to improve my writing!