Hate is just a word.

Blood

I pulled my car quickly behind my house and threw the cover over the top, I wasn't about to let my dad know that I used his 'precious baby' to drive to school cause I was too lazy to walk.

"Hey Son." My dad said when I walked in through the front door. I ignored him, as usual, and climbed up the spiral steps.

Once I was up I kicked my bedroom door open and threw myself in, locking the door behind me. Sitting on the bed, I forced open the draw, revealing a large assortment of blades, wires and needles and I grabbed the closet thing to my hand, it was a razor. I peeled up my long black sleeves to reveal my frail, scarred flesh.

Closing my eyes, I thrust the blades deep into my skin and forced it all the way to my elbow. Blood trickled down my arm and spilled across the floor, staining it. "Helvete..." I muttered, putting down the blade and wrapping my fresh wounds with an old bandage. Picking up an old rag, I sprayed my floor with bleach and scrubbed down hard on the bloody area.

I sighed as I felt my bandage growing damper by the second. I should probably get a few more of these... I thought as I unwrapped the bloody bandage. More blood squirted from my arm as I slowly unwound it.

"Oh skitt!" Jogging down the hall I forced myself into the bathroom, running cold water from the tap. I pushed my wounded arm below the water and hissed in pain from the cold.

Eventually, it stopped bleeding so I took it away from the water. I wrapped it in a clean bandage and covered my arm back up with my black sleeve.

I hate myself.

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DONT YELL AT MEH!

I know how short this chapter is but I really needed to put in the fact that Eric is a self harmer. Let's just say that he isn't exactly ... sane...

Byediedye!