The Man Of My Nightmares (Septiplier) **DISCONTINUED**

Schizo

**Jack's POV**

I felt empty after that day. The two weeks were hell. Alone in my room, Lily would show up and tell me how much I fucked up. I'm still in my room. Sitting pretty in my brand new scars. Lily leaned against the door.
"So, what are you gonna do? Your mom is worried, so is everybody else."
"Shut up Lily, I can't face them yet."
"Just like how you couldn't face me when I blatantly asked for saving?!" she was right. I didn't even try to help. I started crying again, not that that was different from what I've been doing the past two weeks. Two weeks and no one called the police. No one cares about the boy who lost his mind.

***

It happened to be dinner time. Ma called for dinner with a gentle knock on my door. I didn't want to, but Lily pushed me out and I saw the excitement on my mother's face. Disgusting. She had made chicken noodle soup for dinner. If only she knew where it would end up. Lily followed me into the dining room and watched as I ate tiny spoonfuls of soup and chicken. She got a kick out of seeing me suffer, the bastard. I chewed and I gulped like a normal person. It was hell. The salty broth caressed my tongue so gingerly. I was doing so well. I was almost under 90 pounds.

I dumped the rest of my soup in the sink and trudged up the stairs. I waited for all the lights to go out. I waited for the house to go silent. Now was my chance. The soup is still in my system. I grabbed a clean pair of boxers and ran. The bathroom was cold. I set the water between warm and scalding. No one will hear me now. I stuck my hand down my throat and pulled up the demons from inside me. Just then, I heard the bathroom door open. I swallowed what was in my mouth and stood there. Crazy old woman. I heard a flush, then the sink going. I sighed quietly. At least I won't seize for a while. My throat burned as I shut off the water. I locked the bathroom door and hopped on the scale. 88.9 That means I lost five pounds in two weeks, pitiful. Knowing my old bloody razor blade was dull, I opened a pack of disposable shavers I bought a while back. This isn't my first rodeo. I grabbed one of mum's hair clips and forced the cartridge open and out popped two perfect paper thin blades.

Drip drip drip. My mind went fuzzy as I saw a puddle begin to for around me. Fuck. I need to clean this up before I pass out. I frantically tried to sop up the mess with my towel.
"Hah, amateur." Lily pushed me into the puddle of my own blood. I got dizzy with the smell of iron and managed to clean it all up. Stupidly I didn't wrap my arms first, so I was still dripping. After that was all said and done, I plopped onto my bed and slept.

"Are you going to school, dear?" Mum called. "It's 8 o'clock."

I didn't answer. Why would i, Lily destroyed my only quiet place, everyone would worry, it would be a mess. My head ached like hell. I tugged on my newly overgrown hair, I wanted to scream. What would Mark think? Ted? All the teachers and counselors that only care about me because it benefits them. I felt the familiar clawing in my stomach, begging for breakfast, paired with a raw throat. I loved it. This masochistic paradise I've created for myself. If nobody noticed that I was gone for two weeks, how bad would forever be?

"Knock knock." 

At first I was too groggy to recognize the voice. Then again, when am I not? Lily leaned on my closet door saying that I'm such a pussy, hiding in my room talking to myself because I refuse to face the fact that I can change. Trying to convince myself that this is how it has to be. I swing violently into a fetal position and start rocking. I throw myself to the floor face first and tug at the carpet. I catch a faint smell of iron. I stagger to my feet, pulling clothes off their hangers. I slam school books to the floor, clenching my teeth so hard they hurt. 

"Aw, poor baby. Can't face the truth?"

I swing a hard punch at her and I hear glass breaking. All at once, my hand goes numb in a flash of red and I feel the oxygen leave my brain and I collapse, as everything goes black.

A/n: so why is this one late? I was admitted into a psych ward in april, and havent had my phone since. how did i write this? got a laptop. summer identity crisis? check. new and old bad habits? check. also, sorry its short.