Adopted by Gladers

4-Ki's Story

For those of you who skipped last chapter, or just forget, THE THING I MADE UP ABOUT KI HONG SELF HARMING IS FAKE AND JUST FOR THE STORY. Ok?

Ki Hong POV (shocker)

I want to tell the guys. Yes I do. It's my responsibility to tell them. Hell, Thomas would freak out if I waited a long time to tell them about Margaret. At least I understand her. I don't know if she was *possible trigger!!* lying about being allergic to pizza. That was always my excuse not to eat. *Trigger over*. I wish she would tell them.
Sure, it was hard to tell the boys when I was suffering depression, but they were so supportive.

-flashback-
*Trigger warning*

I bush my hands across the deep pink scars. They are fresh, and they still sting. I love the pain though.

Dylan knocks on the door. He must've heard my crying.

"You alright in there buddy?" He asks.
I don't say anything. The knife is in my hand, I was about to cut. Again.
"I'm fine." I say.

He takes that as a cue to walk in.

"I should've told you earlier. I know. But I have depression?" I say it as if it were a question.

Dylan didn't even see the knife in my hand when I said it, so he looked confused. But that's when he saw the scars and knife.

"Shit. SHIT TOMMY!! Emergency meeting in Ki Hong's room. Now!" He yells. "Shit Ki." He whispers. "Shit."

Thomas literally runs into the room, falling over his own feet.

"Emergency.. Meeting... Wh-" he also sees the scars. "Well bloody hell! Why didn't you tell us?"

I can't look at them. I can't even put the knife down. "They told me not to. They said I should I shouldn't trust you."

"Shit, Ki? Who are they?"

"Voices. Voices in my head. He wants me dead. She wants me suffering."

"We're going to the hospital right?" Thomas whispers.

You wish the hospital can fix you. You are incapable of making it past the age of thirty five. She says.

"Shut up!! I will live until I'm thirty five. I'll live until I'm ninety! Just you watch!" I scream.

-flashback over-

I don't even remember what happened after that. All I know is that the boys were closer to me than ever before. It's like I told them that I won the lottery and they can have some of the money. They gave me wrist checks three times a day, encouraged me to eat more than what I would. Sure, I hated every second of it, but now, I don't regret telling them.

I look at my scars now, and I realize how stupid I was for doing it. Yet I am proud that this experience was part of my life. I'm proud that I got over it.
But being triggered by my own daughter's scars? That might be a problem.

So that is a little bit of Ki's story. As mentioned, it is made up. Okay? Leave your requests!!
Have a magical day,
Alacazzam ☄