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T H I R D P E R S O N 《°🎈°》
When Daniel cried there was a rawness to it, like the pain was still an open wound. He would grab onto something, anything, a table or the back of a chair and then his whole body would shake.
The sobs were stifled at first as he ran to a secluded part of the library across the hall, then he was overcome by the wave of his emotions as he broke down entirely, all his defences washed away in his own salty tears.
When he at last turned his head he saw Harper and his face scared her. He was a picture of devastion, fear and self hate. It was the face of one who had suffered before and didn't know if he could do it again.
"Daniel? Are you okay?" Harper questioned stupidly. "What's wrong?"
"Make it stop!" He cried. "Please just make it stop!"
"Make what stop?" She asked.
"This! Me!" He pointed to himself. "I-I can't do it anymore. I can't control it and they all make fun of me for it."
"Are you talking about your powers?" She looked at him and he nodded. "Daniel, this is a school for people who can't control all of their powers. It's why you're here."
"No one cares about me!" He sobbed. "Not any more."
"I care!" Harper told him. "Your parents care, your friends care, a lot of people care about you."
"I hate myself!" He cried harder. "I'll never be good enough. I'll never be like my brothers who mastered this power within their first week of having them. Do you know how long I've had them? A whole two years."
"Daniel, you and your brothers are people. You think I mastered my powers easily? No, I practiced." Harper said.
"I-I can't do it any more." He mumbled, pulling up his sleeves, showing his scars. "I'm weak!"
"And what's wrong with that?" Harper questioned sitting next to him.
"Weak people give up and that's what I want to do." He cried even harder. "I want to give up. On life, on everything!"
She reached over to pull him into his chest and he broke down. He sobbed into her chest unceasingly, hands clutching at her leather jacket. She held him in silence, rocking him slowly as tears soaked her chest.
A tiny lapse let him pull away, blinking lashes heavy with tears. She stared at him for a moment then, just when she thought the breakthrough would come and he would trust her with this new found vulnerability, the shutters came down, his emotion walled off behind a mask of coping.
He would just wear it until everything was right again, he didn't know any other way.
One would ask. Is it better to rack your body with noisy sobs and let the world know of your pain, or to slowly release your emotion within yourself with silent tears?
