Bubble Gum Chapstick 🍬 (l.s.)

Chapter 4

(Major trigger warning here and I'll tell you before the part comes up)

When Harry got home he flopped on his bed and groaned into his pillow. I can't believe I wore this! I'm asking to get bullied. I'm so fucking stupid. I can't do something as simple as dressing normal. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he laid alone with his thoughts. Harry's phone rang cause him to jump up and hesitantly answer. "Hello?" Harry sniffled. "Harry? Are you crying? What's wrong?" Gemma asked worriedly. "It's nothing Gems don't worry." "Harry... you're obviously crying what's wrong." "I don't want to talk about it Gemma!" Harry said snapping. "Oh." Guilt instantly rushes through Harry and he started crying more. "I-I'm sorr-ry... I didn't mean-n to yell at you..." Gemma sighed. "It's okay Haz. If you don't want to talk about it that's okay, just know I'm here for you." Harry wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "Thanks Gemma." He sniffled again before saying goodbye to his sister. I'm such bitch. I can't believe I yelled at her! She was just trying to help. Why does she put up with me? First the sweater and now this! I fucking hate myself!
(❌Some self harm coming up ❌)
He cried harder and the sat up staring at his sleeve. He gently pushed his sleeve up and took in the damage he had inflicted. He gently brushed his fingertips up and down the scars and cuts. Some were fresh and scabbed over from two days prior and some were white raised scars. They were overlapping and crisscrossed on places, due to the lack of space. I graduated highschool but here I am... coping the same. Harry gave a sad laugh at the thought. He shoved the sweater off and his jeans and put on a pair of pink silk shorts and a white tank top. Harry looked in the mirror brushing his fingers over the scars prominent on his thighs. He sighed to himself as he walked into the bathroom. He reached up on top of the mirror and pulled down a little pink metal box and sat on the bathroom floor. Harry opened the box and stared at the two shiny razors that sat in there. He carefully picked one up and his eyes filled with tears. He lined it up horizontally and pressed the metal razor into his skin and kept doing until he had 4 straight lines along his wrist. He looked down at his leg where he carved the word "Faggot" so many years ago. Harry's vision blurred with tears as he cut over the scarred word. Right beside that be carved the word "Fairy". He dropped the razor covered and sat back to admire his work. He choked out a sob.

Faggot.