Travis - Scömìche Fanfic

Chapter 2

Mitch's sobs from the bathroom echoed in the apartment. His gasps of pain lingered in the vents.

Blood dripped down his arms as the razor slid across his skin, taking up that last bit of empty space.

The pain started to make him go numb, everything around him became blurry and unnoticeable.

Mitch started to get dizzy from the amount of cuts he carved into his skin.

But Mitch wasn't done, he needed a worse punishment. Something that would make him feel better.

He looked down to his legs. "Here we go..."

He slid down his pants and saw his unbroken thighs. "So... Fat."

Mitch made a couple dozen cuts on each leg, forming a blood puddle underneath him.

"You need to be skinny! You're fat! Travis is right, you have to puke everything up! Make him happy you ugly piece of sh**!" He thought.

He crawled to the toilet and puked up everything he could.

"Stop being so useless!"

His sobs continued as he was bent over, in pain.

"You're lucky to have Travis! He had to put up with you every f***ing day! Do him a favor!"

Mitch would not stop puking.

But then something ran through his mind.

Scott.

He can't find out.

When he finally did stop puking, he flushed the toilet and cleaned everything up.

He could never find out. Mitch could never let that happen.

Mitch was finally able to gain his balance and stand up to look in the mirror. He frowned at his black eye.

"Ugly."

He stuck his razor back into the cabinet and sighed. He looked down and tried to hold back tears. Mitch looked back up and his eyes landed on Scott's old prescription.

He hesitantly grabbed the bottle and brought it up to his face.

"Do it."

Mitch opened the bottle and dropped one pill into his hand.

He slowly opened his mouth, dumped the pill, and swallowed.

A shiver ran down his spine.

The injection wasn't enough for Mitch. Ever since Travis introduced heroin, Mitch became an addict.

He always looked tired and drained which he always hid with a fake smile and makeup.

While he looked back into the mirror with disgust, he got a text on his phone.

He reached into his back pocket and read the contact.

Scott.

He put the bottle down on the sink to give his phone full attention.

It read, "Mitch, I'm coming home early. Alex and I think I should be there with you. I'll be there soon, stay safe Mitchie."