compare scars

ten

*lil triggering*

He looked down to the pocket knife his grandfather had given him.

The object itself was supposed to represent him becoming a man. It was given to him on his tenth birthday.

"Use this only in an emergency." His grandfather had said, carefully handing him the small object. It was a silver blade and folded in, with a bone handle.

His teenage self then carefully ran his finger over the blade, feeling the sharp metal.

All he wanted was for the smooth metal to glide across his smooth skin. For the blade to dance across his skin, shredding it as if it was a piece of paper.

And so he did.

He ran the knife over each one of his delicate fingers, leaving behind a wonderful, bloody, mess.

You see Dan was smarter than most. His parents were constantly checking his wrists, stomach, and even thighs for any signs. Somehow they had gotten word of him and his depression.

Dan knew he could blame the marks on his poor dog, or even a stray cat. He would never let anybody know.

He then rolled up his jeans, and began on his ankles. With each slice he would feel the pent up anger and sadness get replaced with pain. Pure physical pain.

The thing he craved. It was like a drug to him.

Once he was satisfied he washed off the knife, and folded it back up.

You see the scene wasn't beautiful like they always said in books and movies. His nose was running down his face, mixing with the tears that continued to fall. The blood from his ripped up ankle was pooling on the floor, threatening to stain the white towels that were dangerously close.

Dan looked down to his wrist, examining the little vein that seemed to be fighting its way to the surface.

"Oh my god." He choked out, his running nose and tears slurring his speech, so that it was almost inaudible.

"I'm such a fucking joke."

He wiped away the tears from his cheek, smearing the blood from his hand in his cheek.

He softly ran a bloody finger across the vein, feeling it's prominence.

'Maybe one day' He thought to himself, and proceeded to clean up the mess he had made.

---

Dan sat in his apartment, absentmindedly running his hand over the scars that littered his fingers, feeling the smooth skin.

He hadn't felt the urge in so long.

He thought that part of his life was gone, and that he was a new person. But obviously dan was wrong.

How could he be so dumb to think that part of him was gone?

Carefully he took the knife out of the drawer where it lived. Like all those years ago he unleashed the beast, watching as the blade connected with his delicate arm.

Instead of fingers and ankles, this time it glided across the vein. The vein that had always taunted him, screaming at him.

Like always the tears were flowing freely now, the pain starting to take over him. But this time it wasn't sadness the pain was taking the place of. It was an overwhelming numbness that seemed to constantly weigh him down.

It was like he was tied to an anchor of numb, stuck under the waves. Slowly drowning.

He thought he had been happy. But how could he keep working? Dan refused to grade artwork.

To him that was throwing in the towel and worse than quitting. He had already written his resignation ready to hand to Mr. Gordon along with a "fuck you."

With the thoughts of that day he pressed harder, wincing at the pressure.

Dan then stood up and placed a sponge bob bandage on the cut, and downed the pills with a swig of tequila.

After a few swigs, the numb man was sound asleep on the floor. Using his resignation papers as sheets.

---

Sorry for the kind of triggering chapter

If any of you ever wanna talk it me, I'm here and always will be!

But like seriously I love you all so much feel free to talk about anything. Literally anything I gotchu:)

This'll get more dyle/gay very soon!!

Have a nice day/night!!!!!