We're Not All Heroes - AOU

7

I'm in the worst fucking mood therefore so is this chapter. Trigger warning too, smoking weed and using other drugs, some suicidal thoughts and some self harm.

I get back to my appartment around 4 am, Bucky was "asleep" in his room. I know his not by his breathing patterns, he probably just doesn't want to talk to me.

I go to my room and grab a small box from under my bed, opening it to check the contents. Everything that I would need is in it.

I put the box in my pocket and go to the stairs that lead to the roof, going out and finding a small corner to sit in.

Out of the box first is a little clear baggy with chopped up weed in it, next was a lighter and some papers.

I make three joints and set them on the ground infront of me, staring at them.

I pick one up and light the end, putting the other to my mouth and inhaling the smoke, then watching the cloud as I blow it out.

I repeat this process till the joint is finished and I do the same with the other three.

I sit for a minute, staring at the ground as my mind swirls and I lose my thoughts.

I blink back to reality and reach into the box again and pull out tabs. I rip off a few of the squares and have two. Due to having some super serum in my blood, I'm more immune to the affects of drugs and alcohol, but with enough I can still feel pretty high.

My head spins as I try to focus.

I reach into my belt and pull out one of my daggers, staring at the blade for a long time. Thinking thoughts that don't seem to thought properly.

I put the knife down then put all my stuff back into the box, standing up after grabbing the knife again.

I go back to my appartment then straight to my room, I put the box under my bed then go to the bathroom attached to my room.

I look in the mirror at my messed up face, red and glossy eyes then down at the knife still in my hands.

I slowly undress myself, turing on the hot water in the shower, watching steam roll out and fill the bathroom, all the while the knife still tightly in my grip.

I climb under the scolding hot water, too numb to feel any pain. Too high to care.

I sit on the floor, my back against the wall, I raise my hand woth the knife and stare at it intensly.

I lower the knife to my right leg, tracing the tip from my knee to my upper thigh then retracing that line but with more pressure, making blood spill out.

I continue to draw deep lines into my legs until the white tiles are covered in blood.

My hand with the knife is red but washes off quickly in the water, my eyes burn as tears fall out.

I watch the blood flow freely until theres a loud knock on my bathroom door.

"Hey it's been almost two hours, are you OK in there?" I hear Bucky call out.

I can't find the words to reply as I restart the process of slicing myself but now on the other thigh, moving up towards my stomach. Now there's deep cuts on my hip, going up my stomach, my waist.

I bring my knees up to my chest, smearing blood everywhere then hold the knife to my throat.

There's another knock on the door but I keep ignoring it. I feel the cool edge break skin and a warm trickle down my throat.

I keep pressing, starting to move when there's a louder knock on the door and Bucky yelling to open the door if I'm alright, it makes me freeze but not answer or completely stop.