Butterfly, Don't Fall (Boyxboy)

Chapter 6 - You're Slowly Killing Yourself

A/N TRIGGER WARNING, GUYS! There will be self harm and eating disorder stuff in this chapter. There's my warning, please take it seriously! I don't know how bad it actually will get but I'm going to warn you anyway. Tell me what you think about this chapter, helps a lot!
If you need someone to talk to, you can message me all the time (twitter/kik/instagram: turtleraptorrex). I'm happy to help you! Take care, I love you guys! And always remember, you are not alone. ♥

Just as Cam thought, the demons came back. Why would they leave him alone anyway? He couldn't stop the demons yelling at him, his thoughts were racing and he regretted every single bite he had this day. "Why did you do this? You're so dumb. Probably gained like two kilograms as well. How many calories did you have? I had one pancake. That was about 260 calories. Then I had three pizza slices. How many calories are in a slice of pizza? 300? Yes. No. I don't know. Where's my phone? 266. That means I had about 1058 calories today. Probably even more. I bet the nutritional facts aren't even exact. Why did I do this? Why? I won't eat tomorrow. I have to work out tomorrow. Would be better if I won't eat for the next few days. I ruined everything." His eyes filled with tears and he couldn't stop pressing his finger nails in his forearm, imagining the blood flowing down on the floor. "Where are my blades? I need my blades. In the drawer. I think I put them in the drawer. No. Where did I put them? Oh my god, what if Sam found them? No, that can't be. He would've said something if he would have found them. Didn't I put one in my wallet? Yes I did. Okay, but where did I put my wallet? Is it still in the hallway? Probably." He stood up and got his wallet. Then he walked into the bathroom, opened his wallet and pulled out his brand new razor blade. "Just do it. You deserve the pain."

He sat down next to the bathtub and slowly dragged the blade across his upper forearm. It was not the first time that he took a blade to his skin but it was the first time that he did it on his forearm and wrist. The cut was deep and blood started flowing out of the wound right away. He made another cut. And another and another one. Each of them deeper than the one before. With every cut he made, he felt the numbness disappear for a short amount of time. The pain from the blade separating the skin made him feel something. He was calm and somehow still numb, but this was a good numb. A numb that made him feel alive. "I'm so fucked up." He lost count but continued until his whole forearm was full. He considered continuing on the other arm, but he didn't. "Not today." He watched the blood flowing and dropping on the floor but he didn't bother to take care of the cuts. Seeing the blood made him feel alive. He missed this feeling. The feeling of being in control of something. He was not in control though. Not at all. He lost control over this a long time ago and he couldn't stop. He believed he was in control, that's why he didn't give it a second thought.

"Now look what you've done. I told you he's not good for you.", he hissed with an evil grin on his face. His words made Cam feel sick but he ignored him anyway because he didn't have a chance.

The cuts wouldn't stop bleeding and he started to worry that he might pass out or die. He didn't mind dying at all but he didn't want Sam finding him like this. Hurting Sam, even in the slightest way, was the last thing he wanted to do. The guitarist grabbed the first aid kit but Sam used the last bandage yesterday night, so he walked back into his own room hoping to find an old one. He didn't care if it was dirty, he didn't mind getting an infection which could kill him. After searching for a while and making his bedroom look like a murder scene, he found a still clean bandage and wrapped it around his arm. Then he quietly cleaned up the mess he made in the bathroom and his own bedroom, making sure to be quiet enough so he wouldn't wake Sam up. He fell on his bed completely exhausted and hoped to get some sleep now.

"What time is it? Half past eight. Half past eight?! No, my clock is probably not working. Where did I put my phone? Oh, fuck. It is half past eight. Sam will wake up in about two hours. I won't be able to sleep. And even if I would be able to fall asleep, I'd sleep for ages and he'd end up trying to wake me up and then he'd see the bandage. I could set an alarm though. No, that's stupid. He'd hear it and then he'd ask me why I set an alarm. I never set an alarm on the weekend. Somebody help me. No. Don't help me. I don't deserve that. Sam's trying to help. I have to make him stop. I don't want to drag him down with me. But I can't do anything without ruining the band. I don't want to ruin the band. That's another thing I would never do. I'd rather die than let the band die. Hah, good one Cam."