*Update as of 07/06/15*
Hey hey hey! I can't believe he's 21 in Australia omg😭 So I decided to try a different format! I kinda wanted to spread out my ideas so yeah.
Also, if you're looking for another great imagines book, go check out suicidaIucas 's book. It gives you the feels so bad like damn girl how do you do it?!
I hope you guys enjoy it! Actually more like I hope you cry but same thing.😂
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Self harm
V.
the act of deliberately harming your own body, such as cutting or burning yourself. It's typically not meant as a suicide attempt. Rather, self-injury is an unhealthy way to cope with emotional pain, intense anger and frustration.
In this preference, there are three examples of self harm. Cutting and burning are the two most common forms of self harm, but the third, bulimia, is also a form of self harm because you are still struggling with negative body image and are trying to fix it in a harmful way. The fourth is suicide.
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Calum-
He slides the blade across his wrist once more. His whole arm is covered in scars and cuts, showing his history with self harm. Drops of blood cover his arm, starting to smear onto dry skin.
He finishes off by carving a small × into his arm, his signature ending. Tears flush out of his eyes.
"It's too much, it's just too damn much," he whispers.
He starts by dabbing at the wounds, hissing in pain when the liquid came to a particularly deep cut. Soon, the crimson substance ceased to pour from his wrist any further.
He wraps a cotton bandage all around his arms. He knows it's obvious to see, but he doesn't care. He throws on his black hoodie, tosses his blade back into a bathroom cabinet, and leaves the bathroom.
Numb. He feels nothing but numbness coursing through his veins. He doesn't even pay attention to the burning sensation of his wrist from the lack of blood. He doesn't care where he's headed to, if he'll stumble on the way, or when his life would end. Enough was enough.
Ashton-
He sneaks to the boys bathroom, farthest away from the senior boys' locker room.
He locks the metal stall door behind him, just in case someone decides to sneak in from across the campus.
He takes the lighter from his backpack, the one he's gone to since freshman year, to soothe the pain of the past.
He flicks it, the orange yellowish glow coming to life. He brings it to his wrist, instantly hissing in pain from the scorching heat. He takes a second to let the heat burn his wrist, then he slowly brings it farther up his forearm. He brings it up to the crook of his elbow before finally letting the flames die off.
Tiny blisters cover his arm, the red burn marks visible to anyone who dared to stare. It looked like someone cooked his arm. But it's not like anyone cares anyways.
He wraps his arm with the sterile white bandages. He watches his other hand struggle to wrap it round and round his arm, for he was always careful to not wrap it too tight.
He finally pulls the sleeve to his grey jacket down and walks out of the bathroom, feeling nothingness take over his mind.
Luke-
He removes the small plastic bag from the front pocket of his backpack. His fingers squeeze around the small capsules.
He fake laughs when one of his friends attempts to crack a joke. "Hey, I think it's time to go. I'll see you guys next period."
He stands up and walks towards the bathroom.
I overate, I overate, I overate. It was the only phrase that could repeat for in his mind.
He stops by the bathroom, making sure there was no one near to trace his actions, even though it was the farthest bathroom away from the lunch area.
He quickly swallowed the laxatives, waiting for lunch to come back up. He stuck two fingers down his throat and waited.
The putrid smell of vomit filled his nostrils, as well as the burning sensation that accompanied it. He keeled over and over again, until his stomach felt that there was nothing left in it.
He took the toothbrush out of his backpack and started to brush away. He couldn't let anyone smell the scent on his breath. Once he erased the smell, he made sure there was a trace on his clothes.
He waited in the bathroom until the lunch bell rang, then he stood up and went out the bathroom. Alone and numb as ever.
Michael-
07/08/15
2:20 am
So, this looks to be my last message to anyone. Just know that this fücked up, shïtty place we call home never meant anything to me. In this home, it was always about your needs, your wants, & what took up your time. I'm so fücking done with you and your büllshit. Enough is enough. Know your limits sometimes. Until I see you rot in hell, I won't ever be satisfied with any work I did. All you did was push me down when I was at my weakest point, I always had some flaw you needed to point out, & even when I thought I was okay, you always discouraged me. So, yes, I did something for myself once, but I'm also doing you a favor. Because I don't care anymore. Goodbye.
×, michael
He stared at the suicide note, neatly written with a blunt, harsh message printed onto it. Just what he wanted.
He had planned for months, years maybe. He kept no track. Suicide had always entered his mind in any moment of his life, and now he was fulfilling what he wanted to fulfill.
He laid the note neatly down on his bed, then made his way downstairs. He placed a chair down there just for the occasion, and kept a rope in his room just in case the time was earlier than expected.
He didn't want this to be obvious. He wanted it to surprise his parents...obviously in a bad way.
He stood on the chair to create the noose on the small loop he created a few days ago. He strung the strong brown rope and then made the place that his head would hang in.
He jumped off the chair for a second to inspect his work. It was quite impressive. Now time to kill.
He swiftly climbed back onto the chair, making sure it wobbled just a little, so that he could kick it out properly. He wrapped the rope around his neck, careful not to kill himself right then and there.
Ok here goes nothing.
He took a deep breath, the last one he would breathe. He tightened the top tighter and measured the kick precisely.
One...two...three.
He swung his foot backward, causing the chair to fall backward. He let go of the rope. He felt the air escape from him. Slowly, the life drained out of him as his eyes became oblivious to his surroundings. His mind fogged, and his breathing became more forced, until finally he gave into the clutches of death.
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Woah ok that was super deep. I hope this doesn't lead to a trigger for anyone. But the reason I wrote it was simply because it sounded like a deep matter that needed to be discussed.
Everyone deals with pain differently. Even though self harm isn't really the answer to your problems, some people confide in it to relieve stress or mental pain. So before you make a judgment on people or say something that's gonna make someone feel like crap, think about what the consequences might be. You have no idea what they're going through.
I hope this means something to someone out there, because I don't want to write for nothing, but for those out there who cyber bully, watch yourself.
Ok I think I'm done ranting.😂 Hope you guys felt something while you read this (not happy or anything just some reaction). Comment feedback and vote for more stories! Bye y'all!
×, kyh
