Sokeefe Snippets

Her Fault

Warning: Depression. Suicidal thoughts.I was feeling like killing myself and was using a laminated card and drawing lines on my throat and my besties freaked out and told me to stop but I couldn't cuz the pain was almost satisfying. So, I decided to write about it instead I'm sorry for writing such a depressing story.

\ Keefe and Sophie are dating in this. /Neverseen defeated 2 days ago ago. /

Collab with: KittyCoder6

Sophie's POV

Sophie sat on the floor of her bedroom, her back pressed against her bed. She was trembling, holding a dagger. She rolled up the sleeves of her blood-stained tunic sleeves revealing scars. Scars she'd given herself.

A tear rolled down her cheek - why was she doing this? She didn't know. Actually, she did. It was her fault. All her fault. For some reason, her mind liked those three words. It latched onto them and stuck them on repeat in the back of her head. If she had been more careful and less reckless, he would be here with her. All her fault. If she hadn't been focused on killing Gethen, she'd have noticed the dagger that Lady Gisela threw at her. All her fault. Sophie wouldn't have needed Sandor to push her out of the way and end up taking the hit. Now, he was gone. All her fault. Because of her. She grasped the dagger tighter and used it to cut a straight line on her wrist. Tears fell from her eyes at the sharp pain, but she bit back sobs. She deserved the pain. Because it was all her fault.

" This is all your fault, you idiot. How could you be so stupid?" Sophie scolded herself quietly through gritted teeth, more tears leaking. "Sandor's going to die because of you," A sob finally slipped through, and she dug the knife into her skin harder. "So careless, so foolish. And to think people look up to you." She had been doing this ever since Sandor had gotten hurt - blaming herself. Her mind would probably break soon, but Sophie deserved it.

He hasn't technically died, a tiny voice of reason argued. The only voice that spoke logic amidst her self-hurting subconscious. Yet, she reminded herself, silencing the voice. Everyone thinks he'll make a recovery. They kept telling her he would. But she knew the truth. She'd seen him. He was bruised and the weapon had hit several vital organs. He couldn't even breathe on his own. Lies. They were telling her lies to keep her sane. She couldn't exactly blame them. She had seen herself in the mirror that morning and she looked horrible. Her eyes were red and puffy and there were dark circles under her eyes. They were so dark they looked like bruises. A mixture of tears and sweat pooled at her chin and dripped down.

Sophie tightened her hold on the dagger and pressed it to her hand even harder, mindlessly. She drew it across her skin, causing yet another wound. Warm blood trickled out of the cut and onto her carpeted floor. Pain shot up her arm, a burning, blazing pain - but she ignored it. She deserved to be hurt. It was her fault after all. She embraced the pain that throbbed through her veins. It burned and blazed more than the sun. She wanted to yell, scream, thrash, flail, but, she didn't. She just sat there, staring at blank space, trying to ignore the blood trickling out her gash.

Footsteps sounded from outside her door, coming up the stairs. She flinched at the noise but wasn't worried. Sophie knew she'd locked the door, like always. Sophie paused. The layers of doubt in her mind told her otherwise. Panic clouded in her mind. Eyes wide, she remembered she had forgotten to lock it. But it was too late. The door flew open, revealing a boy with messy blonde hair and ice-blue eyes that were always filled with happiness and mischief. But not now. His hair was flatter than normal - never a good sign. And his eyes were tired and worried. Concern for her, she figured. The thought only sent her spiraling deeper into guilt. She didn't deserve his kindness. Keefe's eyes widened as he took in her ridiculous shape.