Before He was Rosy Cheeks

when a thought forms

(**warning: there are themes of self harm in this chapter**)

The boy still hardly left the confinement of his room, even though it'd been weeks.

He only seemed to leave to grab a protein bar from the pantry or to take an endless shower of burning water, so that he could feel something.

That was, until the scorching water just wasn't enough to take his mind off his mantra. "Muderer. Killer. Monster. You."

It echoed around in his head, in a ceaseless pattern, that drove him crazy and ate away at his being.

And it tore away at his mother too. Until she found herself being haunted, everywhere she went in their house. While she tried to sleep. Cooked (or more like microwaved a frozen casserole from the wake). Drank.

So instead, she found herself wasting away at the local bar, getting drunk off her mind. She drank until nothing made sense anymore and all she had was the brain capacity of a child. Till she was hunched over a disgusting toliet to empty her stomach.

And the boy didn't even realize that she was gone, he was too caught up in the lack of feeling in his body, and the words running through his brain. Not that she had ever tried to reach out to him after that day in the bathroom.

He found himself aching for there to be something. He wanted to feel sorrow, or anger or anything because he didn't feel like he was alive. He felt like he was in a nightmare that he couldn't wake from and things were crashing down around him, but nothing touched him.

He needed control.

Absentmindedly, he scratched at his arm, until his eyes snapped upon in realization.

There was a feeling. It was tiny, but it was there. The pain of his nail digging too deep into his skin, was the first thing he'd experienced in a week.

The boy continued to drag his nails against his forearm, until it was bright red and decorated with fading scratches. A tiny bubble of red surfaced, in a place where his fingernail cut too far.

The silence in his head, was what made him do it. The silence that he had wanted for so long.

His thoughts were nonexistent and for once he felt at peace, while his mother was losing herself to alcohol.

____

Bella's note: this is short and terrible and I'm sorry.

I don't know if scratching is technically self harm, but someone told me it is..

-xx

(P.s. it would be great if you could check out my new story "Fireworks" I'd love you forever, even more than I already do.

Also if you'd like to follow me on Snapchat (@ arabellanmonroe ) that I specifically made for you all, you can find news on updates/my art/and you can follow me on adventures?? [And its free for you??] Idk)