DIPHYLLEIA GRAYI(SORAMAFU)

16

song recommendation : sleep tight-HIGHLIGHT (the song I included in media)

Soraru walked to his house- it was a long trip- but he had thought that it was infinitely better than letting Hashiyan and Mafu see his wounds. Not when its still so fresh. He pulled the sleeves over his hands so that it fully cover his wrists, and took in a deep breath before unlocking a door and calling out a greeting to his parents. Neru is off at work, he knew, and let loose a breath as he quickened his steps to his room. He didn't stop to check on his mother, merely walking past the living room and glancing at the couch, where she sat after a long day of housework. He walked stiffly to his room, pushing open the door silently and running towards his bed. Once his face is fully smashed against his fluffy pillows, Soraru allowed himself a soft sigh before his arms pushed himself upwards.
His arms shook with the effort as he braced himself in that position, debating whether to sit up or become one with the bed. He finally decides on the former, sitting up cross-legged on his bed. He had made sure that the door is locked before he collapsed on the bed, so he doesn't feel scared that he will be found out as he pulled the sweater off and examined his slashed wrists with some kind of detached interest. He poked at it, seeing fresh blood well up at the action. Soraru felt a perverse pleasure as he stated at the wound for a few more minutes, before he started prodding at it. He wouldn't apply medicine on the skin, he knew, regardless of what Hashiyan had said repeatedly.

There was a moment once, when Hashiyan found him, scratching at his wrists and found out his closely kept secret. Hashiyan had scolded him, before his eyes softened and he brought Soraru to the kitchen, and took their first aid kit out. He had stuck a band aid on the self-inflicted wound, with a stern order to never do it again.

Soraru had never made that promise to Hashiyan.

He begun scratching at the wound now, as he stated off to a distance, feeling the nails scrape against the raw skin. He could still hear Suzumu's taunting voice, can still feel the disgusting feeling when he realized with a jolt that Suzumu's words are so true. Tears welled up in Soraru's eyes, and the young man stumbled to the bathroom, barely having enough time to slip the toilet seat up and got rid of the contents of his already empty stomach into the toilet. He flushed the toilet quickly, and slid down the floor, tears staining his cheeks.
He closed his eyes, laying his face against the cool ceramic, before pushing off and stripping himself off completely. He walked into the shower, letting the water wash his blood away. He deliberately used a little too much body shampoo, wanting to get rid of the tangy smell of the blood and the sharp tang of vomit from his skin.

Once he is done, he walked back into the bedroom in nothing but a pair of undershorts, and stated at himself in front of the mirror. Excess fat- it's everywhere. Soraru pinched his thighs, using a little too much force in his grip. Within fifteen minutes, Soraru's body is covered in red marks, courtesy of his fingers. He paid no attention to it, instead twisting to the side and smoothing his fingers over his stretch marks, wanting to smooth the skin and get rid of the marks. He chewed on his bottom lip, turning away from the mirror as he pulled on basketball shorts and an oversized shirt, waking to the door and twisting it open.
When he is downstairs, he saw his food laid out on the table and swallowed against the bile rising in his throat. "This is for me?" He asked, turning to look at his mother, whom merely smiled and nodded. Taking a deep breath, Soraru walked towards it, opening up the container. He sat down, and scooped up some rice with his spoon, his body shaking, fighting against the recoil. He lifted the spoon to his lips, and bite slowly, monotonously, as he stared outside the window opposite him. His treacherous fingers picking up the spoon and scooping up more and more of the rice, his betraying mouth chewing on the delicious food, muttering foul words towards his idiotic body which reacted positively to the food he ate. His mind recoiled at this behaviour- of eating- but he couldn't seemed to stop. He finished his lunch, and watched the dishes, muttering a soft thank you and an excuse to finish off his homework.

When he is safely back inside, Soraru pressed a hand against his mouth, fighting against the urge to shove his finger down his throat and vomiting his food up. Remembering his mother's smiling face when he said he is finished with the food, Soraru moved, stiffly, towards his study desk, where he sat and proceeded to finish his homework, not without the endless drone of degrading words repeating itself in his mind.

He just wants to die.

a/n : how's the song?
-aru