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*Trigger Warning*

Dan's POV:

After I finished my classes it was about 1:00am. After that I looked down at my arms, I didn't have a shirt on and my arms where still damp from my shower earlier. So my scars where out a bit more than normal. I went over to my dresser and opened the little heart shapped box where I hid my razors. I grabbed on of the 3 and brought it down to my forarm, Thoughts where running wild in my head. Crazy even. They were chanting, Go! Go! Go! And I went for it. I was calling myself fat, ugly, worthless, and so many other names that I cut more and more. The blood was trickling down my arm. I had moved to my bathroom and had my arm over the sink. After I was done I had about 12 new cuts. I washed them and put bandages over them. Like I always did after I cut. The worse feeling in the world is an infected cut. 

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