" Darling you'll be okay ... " || Male Y/N

Pain. [Pt. 2] [Y/N POV]

A/N !! This takes place around 5:20-5:40pm, just for a time reference.

Trigger Warning !!! This is where the self-harm part takes place. It will be a bit descriptive, so please beware. 

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Music blasted through Y/N's shitty earbuds, in an attempt to distract himself. Ever since he had gotten into his room, horrible thoughts kept nagging at him. They called him horrible names, told him he was a failure, a burden, everything horrible that you could think of. 

But worst of all, the thoughts of the blade came to him. They told Y/N that he deserves to bleed, that he deserves punishment for being so cruel. All his scars, old and new, ached horribly. His skin almost begged to be cut into, urging him to destroy himself. Y/N had been trying so hard to not hurt himself. Vic had been his rock, and Vic gave Y/N a reason to not hurt himself. In fact, for awhile, he hadn't been hurting himself all because of Vic. But with things going all downhill recently, that also came to a quick end. He'd been trying not to do anything. Small cuts at most. But the urge had been getting worse, and today it just was destroying him.

After a moment of looking down at the scars on his arms, Y/N slowly got off of his bed. He made his way over to his desk, and slowly reached under it, feeling around for that small piece of metal taped to the underside of it. 'Are we really going to do this ?'  Y/N thought to himself, as he untaped the blade. '... I guess we are.'  Y/N brought the small trapezoid-shaped blade up, looking over it. A soft ray of sunshine that managed to get through the curtains hit the metal, and it gleamed a bit. Y/N flipped the blade in his hand, and then made his way back to the bed. 

So many thoughts swarmed in his mind. Flashbacks of every horrible night he did the same horrible thing to himself every night. Feelings of guilt, shame, and self-disgust swirled inside him, only making the urges stronger. He stared at the blade in his hand, with both nothing and everything in his mind. 

Y/N set the blade down next to his cloth and few medical supplies for cleanup. He pulled his headphones out, and then his hoodie off, not wanting to possibly get any blood on it. Out of everything he owned, he couldn't bare to stain his favorite hoodie with blood from doing this. He didn't want to dirty one of the few things that brought him comfort nowadays. Y/N put his headphones back in, making sure the volume was turned up completely on his iPod. He wanted to block out the world, and this was his way of doing so. A soft tear rolled down his cheek, and he didn't bother wiping it away.

Y/N positioned his arm, and picked up the blade. He took a deep breath in, and then swiftly brought the blade down and across his arm. His skin split open. The cut shown white; the dermis. Anxiety filled Y/N, a little bit surprised at the sharpness of the blade, and how easy it was to go that deep. Slowly, blood pooled in and filled the cut, and Y/N calmed a little bit. The blood started to trickle down his arm, deep red. Y/N didn't bother wiping it away.
Slowly, Y/N made another cut. The metal bit into his skin, and parted it, leaving blood in it's trail. While it hurt, Y/N had grown accustomed to the pain, and honestly found a bit of comfort in it. Y/N continued to cut himself, covering his arm in dark red lines. Blood dripped down his arm, and onto his jeans and bedsheet. He barely noticed the blood staining either of the two, and didn't care much either. All he cared about was the pain. All he cared about was destroying himself, showing how horrible he was, showing how much of a failure he was. Each mark represented a horrible thought, a bad feeling, a mistake that he made. Y/N made sure to violently create a deep cut for the stunt he had pulled with Vic earlier. 'I deserve to bleed out for how horrible I was to him' ,  Y/N thought. 

Y/N didn't even notice Vic yelling his name, or the door slowly opening.