MCSM Oneshots (LGBTQ+ Ships)

Addiction*

Aiden's PoV

He didn't know what triggered him. But all he felt was just... his control slipping away. He gripped the bars tightly, his hands shaking. The voice was back again. Aiden's vision blurred a little as he tried to fight back. Whatever this was.

He needed. To feel pain. He clenched his fists and felt his nails digging into his palm, but not deep enough to draw blood. Please hear me. He could hear that voice in his head say. Can't you stop talking? Maybe you're talking to yourself. Stop going insane.

Aiden opened the door to his house and immediately headed to his bedroom. Without even thinking, he just grabbed his penknife. He felt nothing. He was so calm about all this... that it was scary. His hands were shaking so much, but Aiden didn't care. He just wanted the voices to stop.

Aiden slammed the door of the bathroom closed and pressed his hands to his ears, trying to listen to his music. For a moment, the music seemed to drown out the whining in his head. Aiden looked around the bathroom and saw his keys, which were rather sharp but not sharp enough to cut.

Without even a hint of fear, he grabbed them and tried to stab himself with the sharp end. Right against his stomach. He felt a little pain, but not enough. It wasn't good enough.

He imagined it as his penknife, as he stabbed him self again and again. A few seconds went by as Aiden slowed down, finally dropping the keys. Unfortunately, it just left him with a patch of redness, at the side.

It was scary, being like this. With no emotions. Just the feeling of wanting to just end your own life. No happiness, no regret, no fear at all. Just half closed eyes and the music drowning out the voice in his head and the drums giving him a headache. It wasn't good enough.

Aiden slid the blade open and looked down at his legs. They were the only place he hasn't tried. And this time... he had to make sure they weren't obvious.

Aiden used his left hand to hold down his skin and he used his other hand to slid the blade across his leg. At first, there was nothing. But then, a line started to form, and it gradually became a line of tiny droplets of blood. Aiden didn't feel any pain. No remorse. No sadness. Just half closed eyes and a blank mind.

Aiden cut a few more times, holding his skin taut and slicing through it easily. Once or twice, they weren't deep enough, leaving just angry red patches of faint lines. Aiden smiled to himself, and pressed his palm against the many lines. He lifted his hand and he saw that there were many lines of blood across it.

He lazily swipes a finger on a droplet of blood and draw a smiley face on his leg. Aiden was acting as if he were painting with watercolours... except, he wasn't using watercolours. He was using his own blood.

He felt his eyes droop a little, but he continued drawing faces until... he felt a little more tired. So Aiden sat there, on the ground, on a carpet. Aiden didn't know how many cuts were there, as long as he felt the pain... well, he was good.

Maybe he was addicted... something he vowed to never do. Aiden managed to swipe up a drop of blood, which was dark red, almost black. Aiden leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

Maybe a little rest won't hurt

****************************

He pulled off his headphones and played the song, while filling the sink with water. His old torture was back again. Aiden looked at himself in the mirror, and saw a boy, staring back at him.

Call him disgusting, call him gross. Call him anything you want, but Aiden had used his own blood to draw trails of tears across his cheeks, leaving two vertical lines of blood running down. He smiled to himself and looked at the sink, which was full and starting to overflow.

Old torture.

He closed his eyes and plunged in, this time, breathing in the water.

He didn't care. At first, he didn't breathe in with his nose. Until... he finally ran out of air and he instinctively breathed through his nose.

Pain exploded as he pulled away from the sink, gasping. His eyes watered as he stumbled, the cuts on his legs demanding medical attention and the voice in his head crying for help. He wanted this didn't he? Why was he so panicked?!

Aiden looked at himself in the mirror, his face wet and droplets dripping off the ends of his brown hair. Would Jesse still like him this way? Aiden didn't know. He drew back his fist and punched the wall, feeling his bones crack, and pain exploding from there. Aiden clutched his hand, hurt all over.

Maybe he needed to really drown himself... one day.

-End