Before He was Rosy Cheeks

when a thought goes too far

(**WARNING: big themes of suicide + self harm**)

Days had passed of the boy finding solace in a little blade, and his mother was shocked when he came out for breakfast one morning. She was so surprised, in fact, that she didn't even realize the thick sweater covering his upper half even though it was midsummer.

With a cup of Irish coffee in her hand, she scrambled to make him something decent to eat -- which ended up just a bagel with questionable cream cheese on it (which the boy ate anyways). Not a word was spoken between the two, though, as the boy stared blankly at the empty seats around the table. And then, after hardly finishing half of his food, he ran back to his room in panic.

His mother cried while he found himself emptying his stomach with disgust and hatred towards himself, and she wondered how much longer they'd have to suffer.

Soon his mother found herself picking up her keys, determined to get some errands done. She realized how much the two needed stability, to get their lives back on track. But she didn't know how awful her decision to leave would be.

The boy was sprawled on the bathroom floor, clutching his stomach with one hand and wiping at his mouth with the other. The taste in his mouth was sickening, but he left it there as a reminder, of how awful he was. How much of a monster he was.

It didn't take long for the emptiness inside him to become more apparant and then it clicked in his brain. Everything would've been better off if I was gone. My mother wouldn't have to house and look at a murderer anymore.

It took eight steps to get back to his room. Eight steps find the thing his was looking for. And eight steps for red to bubble up upon his pale skin and drop to the floor.

The pain made him flinch, as one stroke went deeper than expected, but he stood his ground. Then farther, until he realized it wasn't enough.

Part of him, in the very back of his mind, trying to scream over to roaring mantra that never ceased, told him how mad his idea was. How it wasn't going to help anything.

But with one last breath, he dragged his wrist upwards, closing his eyes tight at the pain. Then he opened them to stare at the thing he could no longer take back.

The lightheadedness set in not too long after, black spots forming faintly in his sight, until he collapsed on the floor.

Slowly he drifted into unconsciousness, and didn't even wake to the deafening scream of a mother finding her last child in a circle of red.

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Bella's note: sorry for the extremely long wait, its been a crazy month for me! And this was awful to write and I almost want to take this down?? This is so dark.

How's everyone's summer been going?

I hope you're all doing well and I'll be replying to everyone's old comments asap!!

Much love,
-xx