~ S A V E M E ~ A Sad Septiplier Story ~

~ C U T T I N G ~

T R I G G E R        W A R N I N G

Jack's POV

I was sat, trembling and crying for possibly the next 20 minutes. The tears were beginning to sting my eyes, and I was almost blind - the world around me was so blurry.

I coughed violently as I shakily stood up, trying my best to make my way towards the cabinet above the sink. I was still shaking, so I gripped the side of the sink as I slowly slid the cabinet window open. I trembled as I reached up, fingers grasping at the sharp piece of metal; the razor blade. I slowly retracted my hand, the blade in the palm of my hand.

I slowly slid the cabinet window shut, then I lowered myself back to the ground, tears still streaking down my cheeks. They felt cold on my warm skin.

I stared coldly at the razor blade for a bit, still trembling. I slowly picked it up in my fingers, wobbling it towards my left arm. I closed my eyes as I layed the sharp bit of the blade on my skin. I squealed in pain as I slashed it across my skin, creating a 5mm deep cut. Tears began flowing out my eyelids quickly, but it felt right. I began to slash violently at my arm, until I began to feel light headed from the blood loss. I coughed lightly, dropping the blade and reaching up to the cabinet again. I grabbed some tissue and some tape out of there, and covered up the wounds. I then put the razor away, regaining my full consciousness.

I ever so slowly got up, still shaking. I stumbled a little as I walked out the bathroom, making my way eventually to my room. I finally entered my room, closing the door slowly, and collapsed on my bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

[T I M E S K I P]

I groaned, waking up to the annoying sound of my alarm. I huffed, rolling over and hitting my alarm off. I let out a strangled moan [not a sexual one you smut freaks] when I felt the pain hit me in my left arm. I hissed, slowly sitting up and throwing my legs over the side of the bed, shakily getting up.

I slowly made my way over to the dresser, opening it and taking out a grey shirt, a maroon hoodie and some black, ripped jeans. I put them on, ignoring the tape over my arm. I then reached onto the bedside table, grabbing my glasses and placing them where they should go.

I slowly made my way downstairs, picking my bag up and skidding out the door. I placed my bag on my shoulders, closing the door, then making my way towards the bus stop. The cold morning air tingled at my fingers and cheeks, creating a pins and needles like feeling. My breath was clearly visible in a cloud of steam.

I eventually appeared at the bus stop, the bus arriving not a moment after. I barely smiled at the bus driver as I handed him my money, and made my way to the back seats. I ignored the stares from the other teenagers, and I then sat down. I took my phone out my back, plugged my earphones in, then put them in my ears, listening to [Y/F/S]. I always loved music. It was my escape from the world.

I closed my eyes for a split second, opened them, and we had arrived at the school. I always admired how fast time goes in these sorts of situations. I sighed, standing up, and walking off the bus, quietly thanking the bus driver. I took a deep breath, walking through the school doors and towards my locker. I glanced down at my planner, seeing we had Maths, Art, English, then I was free to do my own lessons. I slumped over my locker, slowly opening it and taking my 5 books out. [The last 2 lessons can be whatever you imagine them to be.]

"Hey, you worthless gay fuck! Whatcha doin near my locker!" I heard a shout. I held my breath, going pale. Shit.

'I-I... I-I'm just-'

"SHUT UP! I don't want to hear it!" [Let's call him John] John shouted. I twitched, quickly closing my locker and running towards my first class. I yelped when I felt myself being shoved off the rail which surrounded the stairs going down. I squealed, landing with a thud, hearing a sickening crack in my right arm. Pain suddenly shot throw up to my shoulder, making tears sting at my eyes.

"That's it, cry. You weakling." John laughed, spitting on me. I winced, hearing him walk away. I was left on the floor in a ball, crying.

I needed someone to help me. And fast, because I watched blood drip onto the floor from my head. I must've broke the skin when I hit the floor.

'H-Help..' I croaked, collapsing onto my side. I heard footsteps, then silence.