Don't Let Me Be Gone

Fourteen

Trigger warning : self harm stuff and panic attack stuff again also kinda very gorey chapter

Virgil POV
Why must I do this. Why why why?

One cut, two cuts, three cuts, four

I watched as the blood seeped out of the new fresh cuts. I quickly ripped the bandages off my other wrists and discarded them on the flor with the others.

Come on Virgil, what's one more cut?

I slid the blade across my wrist again, quickly drawing blood. Five cuts, six cuts, and many more. Too many to count.

No one can save you now

It's far too late

I sat there, feeling absolutely numb. I didn't feel the stinging from the fresh cuts. Didn't feel the blood slowly falling down my wrist. Down my fingers. Dripping slowly on the bathroom floor.

I didn't hear anything either. Even as I watched the drops of blood hit the tiles. They fell, went splat, blood splattering everywhere. So much blood.

"Virgil?"

I faintly heard a voice coming from the hallway. I don't know who's. I can't tell.

Ignore them

They just want to yell at you some more

I nodded slowly, agreeing with Deceit. I went back to slitting my wrists.

"Virgil?" The voice called out again.

Don't listen Virgil

They don't care about you

Again, I nodded. But I dropped the blade and stared at it for a bit. Metallic silver, against the white of the bathroom tiles, splattered in blood.

Leave it, go back to your room

I stood up, now nothing more than a marionette. A puppet of a side for Deceit to control.

But the second I stepped back into my room, I snapped out of the trance Deceit had me in. Instantly, I felt the sharp pain in my wrists.

"Virgil?" Called that voice agin. Only this time it sounded vaguely familiar.

"It's time for dinner kiddo." Patton...yes that was Patton saying that. "We'd appreciate if you'd come downstairs and eat with us."

My stomach growled.

"Sure, I'll come down to dinner." I Said, loud enough for him to hear. I heard Patton's footsteps echo down the hallway and than down the stairs.

I went back to the bathroom and reapplied bandages. I flinched a little while doing so, the cuts still tender.

I walked back into my room and turned to my bed, looking for my hoodie. I spotted it hanging out of the bottom drawer of my dresser.

I was about to reach for it, when I saw something that made me feel very nostalgic. My old hoodie. Before I changed my style.

I guess I shouldn't be happy to see it, because that's when I was still feeling the effects of depression.

Put it back on

Now

Against my better judgment, I dropped my purple and black hoodie to the floor. I picked up the old one and pulled it on. Instantly, my dark purple shirt, changed back to my old black shirt.