many of horror ~ c.t.h & h.e.s

Psycho

*****TRIGGER WARNING****
This chapter contains scenes of self harm and depression-triggering adjectives and descriptions.
If you are triggered by said things,
Please skip to the next chapter.
Okay 💕
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Harry's eyes were closed, his left eyelid deep purple and riddled with yellow. His lips were chapped, the dead skin flaking away, causing him to look ill. His cheeks were tinted red in a natural way that only occurs in Autumn. His skin was a ghostly pale, despite his usually tanned colour. His hair was limp and tangled, and the skin under his eyes was dark with fatigue and wet with tears.
A noise startled Harry, and he shot up from his place in the corner of the room, jumping on his bed and pretending to be asleep. "Harry. You need to get up for school." His mothers sharp, unforgiving voice rattled his bones like a small child rattling a birds cage. Seemingly innocent, but with a somewhat sinister under layer. "I don't feel well." Harry mumbled, attempting to hide the sobs from his voice. "Right, okay then. I'm going to work, do what you want." His mother replied before shutting the door.
Harry waited until he'd heard the front door slam to hop out of bed and head for the bathroom.

His breathing was ragged as tears welled up in Harry's eyes and spilled out and down his cheeks. He was almost hysterical, and he didn't know why. All he knew was that as soon as the cool metal grazed his skin, he stopped crying, and an eerie calm settled over him.

The first cut was for his father, who died when he was 9,
The second cut was for his scumbag stepfather, who abused and raped him,
The third cut was for her mother, who knew but took no notice,
And the rest all faded into anger and pain until the blood was dripping onto the floor, and his wrists were so cut up you couldn't define a specific source of blood.
Harry sighed, he was so ashamed.
His life was going down the drain. He didn't speak to his family, his grades were slipping and he felt as though there was nothing he could do to stop it.
He felt utterly lost, and none of his friends got it. Sure, they'd been through bad stuff, everyone has, but nothing like what he was dealing with right now.
Sure, Harry's friends knew he wasn't as happy as everyone else.
But what they didn't know was this:
Harry was depressed and self harming. He didn't want to do it, but the sad part was that he was in too deep. He was addicted.