Wyrd [TodoBaku]

Grubble

Warning: Detailed descriptions of Self-Harm and Self-Loathe

Katsuki POV:

Still, in a trance, I crumple back into my sweltering bed, mentally and physically incapable of recovering. The thoughts and emotions depicting the events of prior weeks induce a hurricane of images in my head. It is increasingly difficult to pinpoint the precise feelings currently gnawing at the edges of my heart. The combination of dizziness and the lethargy in my limbs made me feel utterly weak.

It was like a continuous static inside my cerebellum. The brain fog was worsening as my life progressed. Everything materialises so much more murky and unrelenting today, almost like it's been persistently devouring me from the inside - savouring my pain like delicate wine.

The world no longer seems magical.

A slow, dry smirk spread across my face as memories of my parents quarreling flashed across my vision. A gloomy image of tears streaming down the hollowing cheeks of my resilient father. My headstrong mother wept beside him as empty alcoholic beverages littered the floor around her shaking body.

The sky no longer seems limitless.

I palmed at my eyes, trying to erase the images of my grief-stricken parents. I must stay strong. There was no use mirroring their actions in my head. I cannot be so feeble as to weep.

The chirping of the birds no longer seems like music to my ears.

More blood began to burst from the blood vessels inside my mouth cavities, a particularly sharp canine puncturing the delicate flesh inside my cheek.

It's very dark in here.

I thought, but not from the practical point of view, but my mental state. The salty tears inside me want to demand release, but they are too stubborn. They just wouldn't come.

My face wants to grimace and contort into a painful expression - to unleash the pent-up fears and cruelty festering inside my body. But the furious snarl that has been plaster for years seems to have frozen in place. No matter how much I claw and dig into my soul, the walls surrounding me have been built too well and lasted too long. The cement has long solidified into something impenetrable. It will not be surprising if my soul has already eroded behind these self-constructed walls.

Yet, why is it all too painful?

It's not because of the irritation from the previous events. No, that's not why I'm feeling this way. A juvenile struggle with a sleeping bag can't induce such immense pain to invade my deteriorating heart.

To be honest and self-aware, these trivial thoughts did not matter. The metallic warmth circulating inside my mouth is too overwhelming. I cannot think cohesively - the urge to paint simmers restlessly below the surface of my skin. The primal urge to transform these troublesome thoughts and emotions into something magical. A selfish impulse to tarnish my parent's creation.

Perhaps, it was from the perpetual conflict that defined the previous weeks. Or maybe the sound of my parents bickering through the dead of night that retained me awake till the crack of dawn. Or maybe, when the eviction notice came. Or is it that the whispers of bankruptcy started circulating across the school and finally hit home? Still, it is probably due to me staying up late and working multiple jobs to support our family.