Edgar's eyes scattered around the room. Where the fuck is it? He didn't know he had always left it somewhere obvious where the others wouldn't think to check but he had always forgot about the spot anyways and was more than lucky to actually find it.
The jewelry box. He had put it in there. His head was thumping. He needed a distraction quick and fast. It was the only option. He didn't want to seem so weak and vulnerable if he just showed up to andrew or Victor like this. They would obviously use it against him later. Everyone always did. No one needed to see him such a mess. Ever.
His shaky skinny hand grabbed the jewelry box off of his drawer rather aggressively desperate to just get it out. Edgar threw his caplet somewhere around his horribly messy room to clean up later along with his white button up. He could deal with that later just not now.
He glanced at both his wrists and chest. Disgusting oh but it felt so right, he never understood why they had to make such a big deal out of this anyways. What's a few cuts hm? It doesn't harm anyone but him and his body. It somewhat helped him anyways. Who were they who told him he needed to stop? They didn't understand oh those pricks. How could they say such a thing when they didn't even understand how good it felt.
He wasn't going to die if he continued anyways and so what if he did? Death is apart of life. He dug it into his skin he inhaled deeply and shakingly. Good riddance this fucking hurt but the blood was somewhat comforting. And besides the pain was the whole point of why he was cutting and the helpful distraction of his overwhelming and unusual feelings he didn't know how to cope with.
He continued this until he felt like the refreshed scars on his wrists and stomach were enough. Looking at them with both pride and disappointment. So what if he broke his "streak"? That didn't matter anymore not that it ever did anyways. It was just a counting he did to try and make himself proud of "getting better" when he really wasn't. It was addicting to say the least, to see how long he'd last
Some would report him to where the "crazies" go but Edgar was far by convinced he didn't belong there when he really did. It wasn't normal to hurt yourself nor have suicidal thoughts, but Edgar had thought otherwise. Who cared anyways? This was no one's business but his besides it was rather just rude to make everyone else deal with his problems when they had obviously had their own to deal with anyways
(AUTHORS NOTE!! might discontinue if I loose inspiration this was more of a vent of my own I put onto edgar cuz I felt like it :3 )
