Warning: mention of suicide, self harm Ship: Aidlyn Angst + Comfort ——————————————————— AIDENS POV: I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed. It's just the fact that if I were to get up I would see my past written all over me, especially my roots. My black roots are coming back and I can't buy any dye for now, I have to wait a month for such a dumb reason my parents said. I force myself up to change, maybe if I text the group they'll come over and cheer me up?
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(lmk if you can't see the image, i'll write it out!!) Welp, I'm still stuck alone for an hour. I slump into the bathroom and get greeted with a zombie — aka me. I can see the little white lines on my wrists painting them as they scatter up my arm onto my stomach. I wasn't in a good mindset a few years ago, and still am but now I don't hurt myself. No matter how much I need to feel it, or.. Or..? I can't come up with any other excuse... is my body really doing this right now?
I shut the bathroom down and lean my back against it as I sit down, bringing my knees to my chest and holding them tightly. I muffle my sobs and cries with my hand which isn't really helping considering the fact my cousin, Ben, can probably hear it. I sniffle a few times before standing up, walking over to the sink. I bend down into the cupboard and take something out, something I haven't seen since I started talking with the group. A small box of blades.
(TW)
I take one out and place it on my wrist, slowly dragging it along. I keep this pace, each time applying more pressure to where I hit the "beans" you could say. My heart drops and my eyes widen as I see the blood flowing out at a furious pace. "Shit.." I mutter as I throw the blade back into the cupboard and shut it, getting a towel and applying pressure. I get gauze and wrap it around tightly, messing up so it's all messy now. I hear some knocks on the door and my cousins footsteps going downstairs to open the door.
(TW over)
I open the bathroom door and go to my room into my closet, picking out my biggest hoodie and a beanie to cover my roots. Normally I wouldn't but for this, it was bad. It was like seeing a blonde girl with her roots barging into her hair and she never dyed it again, or as if I colored outside the line and didn't erase. I hear multiple footsteps outside my door as they knock, I shove whatever clothes that fell out back into my closet and shutting it. I straighten myself out before putting my signature smile on and opening the door.
