Forget about me. ~[Septiplier suicide]

The Next Day

Mark's eyes fluttered open. He felt a horrible pain in his arm. He looked down remembering how he had finally snapped. He sighed at his work and stood up, bones groaning and popping from his sleep on the hard floor. He slowly made his way to the bathroom to clean up his arm. He picked out the little bits of glass and carefully washed his mutilated arm. With the dried blood gone, he could now see what he had done. There was shredded skin with bubbles of fat showing through as evidence for how big of a mess he'd created. He finished cleaning up his arm and wrapped it in a sterile gauze wrap, then left the bathroom, not motivated enough to take a shower.

He made his way back to his bedroom and softly smiled to himself, "Today I'll be free." he whispered. Mark threw on some pants and a hoodie, grabbed his phone, and left.