Pull up my sleeves and see the pattern of my cuts

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He sat on his bed in the messy bedroom. He didn't bother cleaning it up. To unmotivated to do it. The dust piled in various corners and on top of the shelves. He sighed and layed back down after staring at a razor blade long enough. He had been clean for so long. Why stop now?

He was at one of the lowest points yet again just when he thought He got better. It's always like that, is it? He sat up once more and pulled his dirty and stained shirt over his head. He huffed as he looked at the already fading scars on his arms.

"The Red looked so good on me." He paused as the thought Rang clear in his head. Tears welled up in his eyes as he clenched his fist. He yelped as the blade dug into his palm. He dropped the now dirty blade on the floor and stared at the lightly bleeding cut in his palm. "So beautiful.." He thought and picked up the blade again.

He Set it on his arm and, made the first cut. It Stung like hell and blood immidiatly welled up from the cut. He sighed with Relief and kept decorating himself in deep crimsion cuts and drips. Once every space of his arms were littered in cuts He mindlessly wrapped some bandages around his arms without cleaing the cuts and laid back down.

Just as he closed his eyes his phone Rang. But wait, that's not his usual Ringtone? He sat up and his Vision was blurry. He blinked away the tears and looked at his arms. No cuts. He paused. "It was a Dream.." He murmured to himself and looked at his phone.

Danny was calling. He picked up. Danny sounded worried as he asked if Funny was okay. Funny paused and pondered for a bit before confessing where his mind has been drifting to. Danny listened the whole time and in the end He came over to Dylan's house and held Dylan in his arms as the younger cried into his chest.


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