I keep avoiding writing angst coz I don't want there to be a good ending but I feel like I have to coz its a story. But this story is just y/n cutting in her room, not death tho so I guess could be worse
TW: Self-harm
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Why was it so bad again? You got better you fucking got so much better then it all just got worse again, then it got worse. And you want to get better you really do. Everyday you wake up with the mindset it'll be a good day and it just never fucking is.
It's been 2 months and 26 days since you last cut. You've been waiting for the colder months. It's been a very hard wait but now that you can you don't. You're scared someone will catch you again. But you're better this time. Just stop in February, let them heal and everybody will think it's the same ones from this year.
It's that simple. So currently you are sat in your room with one of your old blades. Why not just fucking cut? Maybe on your upper arms, then nobody will see them anyway. Fuck. Idk. I want to so badly.
You take off your jumper and then stare between your arm and the blade. 'Just one cut. Just one' your head says. It's always just one. But it's so tempting. Just one.
You bring the blade down to your arm and cut. You watch as the blood leaks out and slowly trickles down your arm. Just like old times.
You'd learned a lot since last time youd cut. Learned about the different types of cuts and different depths.
'Just one bean that's it' you think. You bring the blade back down your arm and push it in as deep as you can. It fucking hurts but you need this. It's all you've ever wanted since you started. You keep digging the blade in until you can't anymore and then quickly pull it back and watch as the blood pours down your arm. The yellow spot in your arm shows you did it. Finally. Finally you cut deep. You grab some tissues and held it against your arm to stop the blood.
You waited a couple minutes but it didn't stop bleeding. You were running out of tissue to use so you got up and went to the bathroom. You grabbed a first aid kit and then grabbed some bandage tape and tapes it shut. Then put a giant plaster (bandaid) over it and then sat back down and went back to just small baby cuts.
You couldn't even be bothered to clean up once you were done with it. You loosely wrapped your arm in a bandage so blood didn't spill onto your sheets, then put your jumper on and fell asleep.
The next morning you woke up and your arm was stinging. You got up and then decided to get a shower, it's the easiest way to get all the dried blood off. You made sure the shower was extra hot. Having to take a step away quite often until you got used to the heat.
You washed up all the blood and then properly sorted out your arm. You didn't know exactly how to treat the deeper cut but how hard could it be.
And like usual you went on with your day like nothing happened. Nobody knew anything was wrong. Your entire personality was pretend. Anytime you left your room you became a fake person, because the real you scares people.
It's fine, your used to it. Your whole life everybody has hated you. The ministry probably hates you too but they let you in, let you stay and you are grateful for that.
You left your room and spent the whole day with the ghouls. Then as soon as your bedroom door shut again you just laid there, completely numb. Obviously it wasn't just one, it's never just one is it?
