[3] Alone

84 6 10
                                    

(A/N: trigger warning. Don't read this if you can't handle. I swear. Don't make me feel guilty)

After school, I went home with Rob, who was eating a slice of cheesecake. I always wondered how he had such a big appetite.

"Hey, wanna play some Minecraft later on?" He asked. I shook my head.

"Nah, I'm fine. I'm busy today. Schedule's full. Maybe next time," I told him. He shrugged, and swallowed what's remaining of the cake. We walked in silence afterwards, and I plugged in my earphones, uncomfortable in the awkward situation.

***

The truth is, I really don't have anything to do right now. Sure, I could still go back to Rob and invite him to play some rounds, but I just wanted to be with myself.

Silence engulfed me as I let the cold water slide down my body, trying to wash my worries away. Droplets of water hit the ground, and I started to blame myself. Why didn't I stop the murderer from killing my parents?

Frustrated, I ran my fingers through my hair, making the water splash everywhere, like my feelings. I feel like absolute shit right now, as I stared at the scars at my arm. They were pleading me to cut again, to reopen the wounds, to feel the blood lapse against my skin, and to feel the stinging pain, that makes me feel alive.

People were always thinking 'the popular won't go and harm themselves' or 'they are always the bullies'. But the truth is, we are all humans, and no one is perfect. We might be happy on the outside; constantly smiling, but we are breaking on the inside, slowly crumbling to the ground, until we don't even know our true selves.

I flipped the razor in between my fingers, it's cold metal reflecting the light from outside, begging me to use it. The small voice inside me chanted 'don't do it', but then a louder voice came, overlapping and submerging the small voice. 'Just do it,' it said, pushing me, tempting me. The cold water ran down my arms, my scars, my razor. I placed the razor on my skin.

And I yanked it backwards.

Pain coursed through my veins, and for normal people, they would stop immediately. But I'm not normal. I'm just a boy, tired of his facade, tired of facts, and tired of his life.

I positioned the razor, and brought it backwards again.

One. Two. Three.

One for being useless.

One for having anxiety.

One for not finding and stopping the killer...

The cold water soon engulfed my new wounds, stinging then. They mixed with blood, my blood, and the water turned crimson, flowing down my arm and finally, dripping to the floor from my fingertips. I laid my head against the wall.

Silence is violent.

-----------------
I know some of you guys cut, because of various reasons, and let me tell you this: don't self harm.

I know it's hard to stop, but at least try.

Not gonna point out names, but one of my friend does that. It sucks.

To my friend if you're reading this: you're going to regret it. The scars will be remaining on your skin forever, and it'll remind you those decisions.

#stopbullying
#stopselfharm
#support
#muchlove
#dontregretdoingthingsthatyouknowyouwill

Song: A Team by Ed Sheeran

~Abby

---------
For those of you who are really clueless about what is happening to Mitch, he's having social anxiety. Although he likes to make fun of the teachers, he doesn't like to be in the centre of attention. He's suffering from depression and social anxiety. Somehow.

Hope this clarifies!

~Abby

Ashton (a Merome ff story)Where stories live. Discover now