Fragments

IV

SELF-HARM AND SUICIDE TRIGGER WARNING - PLEASE DONT READ IF THIS COULD SET YOU OFF

I don't really know where this came from - it's a bit creepy tbh - I have a vivid imagination. Maybe next time I'll try to do something slightly happier :/

***

The sounds of his ragged breaths pierced the blackness like a blade - if not for those sounds, it would have been impossible to know he was there.
He sat cross-legged on the cold ground, wrapped in darkness; the room was so utterly absent of light it appeared how the boy imagined a void to be - blackness so complete it seemed to press against his eyeballs, thickening the air around him so every torn breath was an effort. But soon, soon it would be gone. He wouldn't have to breathe anymore. He could finally be at peace.

His wrists and forearms had been slashed by the blade that was now clenched in his fist, but despite the wounds being deep and long, he didn't register any significant pain. He was comfortably numb, with all physical feeling dulled by the screaming blackness that was inside him and out.

Once he would have said this feeling was flat, or tired. Now he knew, that it was simply empty. Vacant. Like he was already dead, his soul already gone from his body, leaving an empty shell behind. Which was exactly what he was. And soon he wouldn't even be that.

Liquid flowed down his arms and he let out a tremulous breath, heaviness flowing out of him along with the blood. He felt lightheaded, dizzy, almost as though he was drunk. But soon he wouldn't have to deal with such mundane, mortal feelings. Soon. Soon. The word echoed in his skull. Tangible, just out of reach.

The boy waited as his head grew lighter, thoughts grew fuzzier and body grew weaker. He waited as he slowly slipped away from the world of mortals; body weakening and mind slowing. Soon.

Soon.