I'm Fine

Don't worry

Aloisa's brother had homework to do. The amount of time he had to spend with them was entirely dependent on how long he took to finish said homework. That fact reminded her of the times she'd been in the exact same situation, how she'd have so little time, if any with her friends because of her own procrastination. It twisted her stomach, made her feel so much sympathy for him. Even though he was probably doing his on time and not on extended time given by nice professors.

But the feeling still needed an out.

They didn't notice her weaponizing her nails, faintly hoping she'd draw blood like she did most times. Her hands attack made her wonder how a paperclip would feel in comparison to her nails seeing how long it'd been; the last time had been with a pen after all.

They were focused on the reading Noah was about to do. Their lack of attention to her hands movements made her wonder if they'd notice her using a misshapen paperclip, she didn't want to find out. For as much as she tried to delude herself, hurting yourself in any such way was still considered self harm. She didn't want to worry them. Yet, when she dug into her art bag to search for something with what she felt was a tinge of desperation not unlike a druggie looking for their pills they didn't shift attention towards her. Neither did they when she dug in again, going into a pencil pouch and pulling out one of the paperclips she'd sworn she'd put in there (in case she put another sheet of paper in her sketchbook to stop the graphite from getting on the neighboring page). They never said anything when she announced her need to use the restroom after pulling out something they couldn't have been able to tell from that pencil pouch and having nothing to draw with nor on nearby. They also didn't question the sip of her drink she took after making the statement.

She walks in and immediately straightens the clip with a relatively practiced ease, the way she drags it on her skin is familiar too, as if she did it recently and not God knew how long ago. She sinks to the ground, faintly taking note of the sound of her shirt brushing along the grout on the walls, berating herself for spiraling over homework, not particularly mentioning her further spiraling because of what set off her initial spiral.

She curls up a little, her knees close to her chest. She briefly wonders how long it'll be until they check on her, if they’d actually expect her to take five minutes. Putting that thought aside, she starts to sing in the empty bathroom, not paying any mind if her friends can hear her.
“I feel like walking has become another chore, I can't go on walking anymore, forgive these words they might be a cliche to you, but I'm tired my feet are feeling sore, I wish to take a bit of time, to stop the tears pouring from my eyes, but I know time stops for nobody let alone me, so I go. Inevitably, yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah” briefly running out of breath for a moment on the last “yeah” before picking back up.
She feels the tops of her forearms “need” some attention so she takes her nails to it whilst singing something else as she doesn't remember how the rest of the song goes, her nails acting as further emphasis to her words “don't you wish for death when your feeling weak, hardships aren't as hard as they seem to be, sure say that all you want you're not fooling me, with those words you never mean. I don't care if strangers die in the street alone, cowering in our hatred has become a fashion show, even so we're supposed to live a peaceful life, even though I bet it's nice, I bet we've tried, someone succumbs behind the colors of the monitor, deep in their grief someone sings a song in their honor, hearing that song a humming young boy wandered off with a knife and an offer,” she stops there, she simply doesn't feel like finishing what she knows. So she continues her attack with the paperclip, most of the attack finding under her forearms with some going on the tops. Mostly going in diagonal lines, and when she makes a few diagonally in a straight row she decides to play tic-tac-toe with herself. While she makes the “O” the back of her head supplies the scene in a fanfic she read where it describes the movements Touya makes when carving “I love you” into his arm with a knife. When she's done she thinks “this would be a pretty morbid game of tic-tac-toe,” and before she can do anything else a teacher walks into the bathroom.

She'd shot up when she heard the door opening, the paperclip hidden in her hand as she smiled at the incoming school staff from her spot against the wall a step or so away from the paper towel dispenser and sinks.

She takes it as a sign to head back; so she fixes the paperclip without the same ease it took to ruin its shape.

Next is calming the red, irritated mess she's left her arm: this too is familiar. The lady has come and gone by this time, any interaction that might've happened gone from her sleep deprived brain. While she goes through the process of getting the paper towels, folding them, soaking them before almost gently rubbing them on the affected area she scoffs at the mess she's made of herself, going on about everything being “fine” even as she deludes herself and when her brain supplies the curiosity of her pocket knife on her arms she brushes it off continuing “let your fear of pain stop you from using a knife or razors” that “it's easier to pretend nothing happened if there's no blood. Probably“ even as there's red spots in some places that weren't there before conveniently where her nails and paperclip attacked. The monologue continues “-so my friends don't find out I'm a mental case”. When she's finally satisfied with her work she examines the damage: it's all still a bit red, and there's faint bumps she can feel and see while she grazes her hand over some areas. Same as she had at Ihop after that stressful night with a pen (it was red, funny enough) and every time she'd done this before.

And as she adjusts the paperclip on her shirt hem she tries to come up with an excuse for the random paperclip her friends didn't see her leave with. She eventually comes up with “I'll just say I saw it on the floor and decided to take it. It's not that weird for stuff like that to fall,”. She decides to take the paperclip off her shirt and just hold it, hiding it in her curled hand, she goes to stand at the sink, hands braced as she stares at herself as she convinces herself “you'll be fine. They won't know a thing”.

With all that done she leaves the restroom, heedless of how much time might've passed.

The excuse isn't needed. Instead Noah tells her about the question Aloisa had asked him to read: something about love. As such, they don't pay any attention to her putting something back in her pencil pouch. She accidentally interrupts him thrice before he can start explaining the runes.

While he's going on, she needs something to focus on. Something to do. She decides to grab the little fidget bracelet of sorts she had made at a fair she went to last year and decides to squeeze it as tight as she can around her wrists, alternating as she waits out the explanation. She hopes he finishes soon so they can finally play on her switch, feeling a bit glad Aloisa's brother isn't here yet, because her brain is the last place she wants to be in right now.

She gives herself at least three false alarms before he's finally done. She quickly puts her bracelet in her jacket pocket and gets her switch out of her bag, asking the others what they want to play, neglecting to tell them she needs to be out of her head like she had planned to mention.

As she goes through her games, leaning on the table she gets paranoid about her arms, constantly looking down to see if they're visible. Like it would somehow change from the previous times she had done this: no one ever noticed, thankfully really. Still she grabs her jacket and drapes it over her shoulders. It doesn't do anything so she puts it on properly after she launches the decided game, easing the paranoia.

And as they all get in their spots to play Puyo Puyo Tetris, she lets the previous events go to the back of her head. A secret she'll never tell so her friends don't worry about her killing herself or something like that (not like they'd need to: she cares about them and their feelings too much to do that).

And the day goes on without a hitch.