mcyt short stories and one shots

quackity angst

Tw: sh, general angst, short oneshot

Quackity POV.

I sat on the toilet seat holding a stake knife in my shaking hand over my right thigh. I wanted to stab it down as hard as I could but I knew I wouldn't be able to actually go through it.

I raised the knife higher and brought it down quickly, not stabbing myself, more just a poke, but it still hurt. I got mad at myself and threw the knife across the bathroom, it hitting the wall and clattering to the floor.

I brought my hands up to my hair and tugged at it as hard as I could, wanting to let out a scream in anger but I held it back.

I don't know why I did, no one could hear me, I could do whatever I wanted, be as loud as I wanted. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I wanted to cry and throw myself to the ground in frustration, but I couldn't bring myself to do that either.

I never seem to be able to express my emotions as I want and that makes me more angry. My hands furiously work at scratching my head, leaving scabs and blood in their wake. I pulled my hands from my hair and instead started picking at my face.

I hate my face. My fat fucking ugly face. I hate how fat I am, I look like I could weigh more than a damn whale, even if no one else see it, I do.

They don't see it, they're wrong, I am fat, I am ugly and it doesn't matter what anyone says. I've always been ugly. My personality has always been ugly.

No fucking wonder no one likes me.

Estoy muerto. Inside and out.

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back. Fuck this. I give up.

I fucking give up.