he was nothing. (Eddsworld)

Four.

Tom is back on the couch with Tord. Edd's demand rings in his ears like a fire alarm. You want to leave the building when a fire alarm goes off. You don't need to, you can let the fire consume you. Tom, this time, wants to leave.

"Just... hug it out." That's the kind of punishment given to bickering siblings. News flash, Tom and Tord aren't related nor are children.

"The hell!? I'm not hugging that!" Tom spat out.

"Why not, Tom? I don't bite." Tord teases, opening his arms.

"Just do it, Tom. Then you can go do whatever." Edd pleas. "Except fight."

Tord leans over, awaiting his hug. Tom snarls and leans in. Tord's arms wrap around Tom, enclosing him in internal suffering.

"Return the hug, Tom." Edd demands.

Tom reluctantly wraps his arms around the devil. For a second he feels warm. There's a fuzziness in the pit of his stomach. A sort of kindness, deep down. It was like a sweet lullaby or a light in a dark tunnel, like he knew everything was okay. All that was ripped away when Tord chuckled, "Fag" and Tom tore himself away.

"Fag" echoed in his mind as he stood and walked away. Tom is, in fact, homosexual. Nobody knows, not even his parents. He's been denying it forever. No, he says, I'm not gay. But I'm allowed to appreciate how hot a guy is. But he doesn't like girls. He's tried but it just doesn't work out.

He takes a detour into the bathroom. Guess who's knocking on the theoretical door? Tears. "Weak ass fucking freak." He scoffs, opening a drawer. He pulls out a razor blade. He rolls up his sleeve as a tear rolls down his cheek and sits in the bathtub.

"No one will love you." He whines, sliding the blade across his wrist. Crimson blood bubbles out of it. The cut burns, making Tom wince. Tears and blood flow steadily out of him and he goes onto the next cut, "Worthless." And it continues.

"Eyeless."

"Freak."

"Idiot."

"Asshole."

He goes onto the next arm, "Crybaby."

"Dumbass."

"Useless." Wait a minute; that wasn't Tom. That voice had a Norwegian accent. That voice was Tord's. Panic rises in Tom, did Tord hear him? Did he know he was cutting? Was he gonna tell Edd?

"Alcoholic." That one was also Tord, yet Tom still added a cut.

"Cunt." Tom found it easier when Tord was talking. He didn't have to waste his energy pushing past the lump in his throat, he could simply listen and slide the small metal chip along his wrists.

"Freak."

"I already said that, but I guess I'll count it twice." Tom laughs adding the final cut to his arm. He rolls up his hoodie, exposing his torso.

Tord laughs beyond the door, "Dipshit." Tom adds a cut to his side.

His arms shake, Tom finds it difficult to hold steadily onto the razor. The pain is not unbearable, but it is pain either way. His hands shake more, loosing more blood, and he drops the razor blade. It lands with a light klink.

Tom doesn't hear anything for a moment. Did Tord hear him? Did he know he was cutting? Was he gonna tell Edd? Tom was slightly afraid that he didn't hear. That he wouldn't stop Tom, until he heard, "Rubbish." Tom picked up the razor blade and added a cut.

"Tord, what are you doing?" Tom heard Edd ask. Panic, again, attacked him. Did Edd hear? Part of him begged that Edd would open the door and see him covered in fresh scrapes but the other part whispered attention whore and the first voice shut up. He took off his hoodie and shirt.

"Just waiting for Tom to finish up in there." Tord replied. Tom removed the rest of his clothes.

"Oh. I just heard you saying things." Edd said, a curious hint in his voice. Tom started the shower.

"Don't worry about it. Ugh, sounds like he's taking a shower." Tord sighs. The sound of footsteps recede into the distance. Tom sigh, the warm water burns his cuts. The blood runs down his body, soaking him in a crimson. Then the water washes it away, but blood comes back out and the cycle repeats.

People make blood naturally. Tom has blood to spare yet down the drain it goes. He wonders if someone at the water treatment plant would see his blood in the water. If they would be disgusted, sad, worried, empathetic.

If they'd know it was him. They'd come to his house and tell Edd- tell everyone about how much of a fuck up he is that he cuts. Edd would never trust him again. He wouldn't be able to be alone because he would spread worry throughout the house. They would send him to a physiatrist to talk about his problems. But Tom wouldn't get better. He'd drink away his problems. They'd then send him to an insane alyssum -Tord's idea- when he's completely sane. That place would drive him insane. He wouldn't sleep. He'd have to shove his pillow into his face and hold his breath in order to make time pass.

But he doesn't want that, so he can't let anyone know.

I'm fine.