Breathing Doesn't Come Easy

Safe

Mikan thinks, "What's the point
of being around any of them if such things could happen?"
Her mind loves to bombard her with images and ideas of harming herself. She knew that. There would be times when she could be riding a bike and she'd imagine shoving her foot under the tire. She'd be hanging things in her room and her mind would ask if she'd consider swallowing the box of tacks. She'd consider throwing herself over the edge of the alligator exhibit at the zoo as she glances over the railing. It was a normal hitch in her train of thought that came about in periods during the day. She rarely let them win, and it was never the worst ones.
However, there would also be times when these thoughts were compounded with similar thoughts about those she found closest. Akane and Nekomaru would spar as their friendly and cheery relationship allowed, and she'd come up with an image of one grabbing the other by the throat and shoving them to the ground in two terrifying seconds. She was absolutely petrified at the thought of carrying out any one of these actions.
At these times, she distanced herself from others at all costs, and she let herself be distracted by destroying herself on her own to pay for them. At this time, she was surrounded by her friends and acquaintances. Everyone held a party on this horrid island in order to know each other better and stay safe for the night. Her mind told her to do unspeakable things to each of them, but she was working on blurring those out. She bit chunks of skin from the inside of her mouth, the taste of blood mixed with whatever drink she was offered (she couldn't possibly recall anymore) and made her sick. Her nails dug into her upper arms, causing the bumpy skin to begin tearing until red and white scratches blossomed on her arms. Her legs shook, barely holding her weight as she panicked. Her breathing was deep in an attempt to do something. She barely held back tears, letting out a small sob.
Hinata put his on her shoulder, a concerned expression painting his features. Mikan yelped, spinning in his direction and almost falling on him. She dreaded the thought of calling the attention in the room to her in this state. She took a step away from Hinata after looking stiffly behind her for any obstructions.
The boy asked empathetically, "Tsumiki, are you alright?"
"Y-yes. No. I c-can't tell right now, I'm s-sorry! You shouldn't b-be near me right now... I'm so sorry, that's so rude! I d- don't want t-to hurt you," her words stumbled from her mouth quickly like the Rapids.
"If it's best I leave you, then please stay safe Tsumiki," Hinata said in reply as he departed awkwardly.
Mikan almost sobbed. Why couldn't she accept help when it's clearly offered to her? Why did she need to be offered help? She began to creep to the corner of the room, where she continued her self destruction. On the way, however, she bumped into a disgusted Saionji.
"What where you're going, you disturbing whore!" The girl spat.
Mikan let loose. She sobbed, running out of the old building she couldn't tell where she was going, didn't care, and didn't want to know. She only stopped when she had reached the ocean. The collapsed, sobbing grossly as she looked at her shaky hands covered in blood. She accidentally drooled as she wailed, noticing the blood mixing in it disgustingly. She almost punched the sand, but she fought against it, telling herself she was too weak to even get out her anxiety. She began to get a crippling headache, and she only cried harder, knowing it would cause more pain. She choked on her breath. It was so hard, she thought. Why did she have to deal with this?
As she felt a light, stiff tap to her shoulder. Her thoughts raced like pure Hell, a mixture of violence and torture and panic. She whipped back, almost falling into the gentle waves reflecting the pure moonlight. She released another sob at her pathetic display. Staring bewildered at her was Pekoyama, the tall, respectable girl who Mikan couldn't imagine caring.
"Are you alright?" Peko asked, blushing with embarrassment at the state in which she'd found the girl.
"No. No, n-no, I'm s-sorry I'm not. I c-can't do th-this. I'm sorry. Y-you don't want to deal with m-me. You should g-go back," Mikan murmured unsteadily.
Peko sat down beside the mess of a girl and hugged her awkwardly.
"You have to tell someone what's wrong to get help," she muttered.
The girl broke down, sobbing and turning to throw herself into the other's strong and stiff arms.
"I'm s-sorry. I-it's these horrible, th-thoughts. I c-can't help i-it. I don't w-want to hurt anyone b-but my m-mind throws p-pictures of me hurting a-all of you. I hate i-it so, so much. I'm sorry... I-I understand if you h-hate me," Mikan poured.
Peko patted the purple-brown-haired girl on the back, shushing her as if it came naturally. The latter continued wallowing in the girl's uniform.
"I'm here. You're not hurting me. We're hugging, and we're both safe. I'm safe, and you're safe. You won't hurt us," she said in a robotic fashion.
The words, despite their forced tone, were genuine, and Mikan noticed. She took two deep breaths, and repeated the swords woman's words. They're safe. She won't hurt them. We're all safe.