SUICIDAL ( taekook )

04- A comforting hug

( sorry if there's any grammar mistakes, please feel free to correct them. Also warning there will be self harm and abuse in this chapter, so please don't read it if you're sensitive about those subjects )

( Jungkook P.O.V )

Silence.

That was the only thing that could be heard in me and Taehyungs little, shared room.

Taehyung had headed out for dinner in the cafeteria. He had asked me if I wanted to come, but I said I wasn't hungry. As told I usually didn't have a big appetite, not that I needed it anyway, I was already fat enough.

Since he would be gone for at least an hour, I took this opportunity to cut for a bit, not really because I wanted to, but because my thoughts was destroying me. It had become an addiction to me. That was one of the reasons I didn't want a roommate. It would be difficult to do anything while he was there, he would find out, and that would be hell. If he found out he would probably hate me, be disgusted by me, he can't find out.

We almost hadn't talked since class. It got silent after we talked about when we got to the orphanage. Since that we only exchanged a few meaningless sentences. But why would he want to talk with me anyway, no one does.

I went to my bed and laid down beside it, pulling out a big, blue, plastic box from under it. I had a lot of basic things in it, but under all that was my little secret box.

I removed all the clothes and took my little box, where I kept all my razor blades, small knives, lighters, pills, and some bandages, I had been through it all, but it never seemed to be enough to cover the pain in my mind and heart. I usually didn't use bandages, unless I cut really deep.

I choose to take one of the razor blades and went to the bathroom. I didn't think much more about it, as I just took my sleeves up and placed the cold metal on my wrist, slowly tearing my skin open. Skin that had been opened so many times before, scars overlapping each other everywhere.

I cried but no tears came out. It hurt like hell. But It was too late.. I couldn't stop now. Not with all the voices screaming in my head.

Nobody loves you, not even your own parents.

You deserved to get beat up by your father.

Your a big disgrace and a failure.

You are ugly and a worthless piece of garbage.

You should just end it all and die already. No one would care anyways.

Taehyung will leave you sooner or later, he doesn't like you.

You will never be successful, you are useless.

I felt the thoughts fade away as I continued tearing up my skin. Sad truth is it's hard to think about anything else when there's blood coming out of your arms. Suddenly I had 15 freshly made cuts on each arm, I looked at my 'artwork', a satisfied expression on my face.

And on one side I wanted this to stop so bad, but on the other side I really think i deserved this. But no matter what I couldn't stop, it was still like an addiction. It's the only way to feel something other than hurt and confusion and self-hate that was driving me insane. It's an escape from reality. No matter how temporary it is it's a relief to escape all the pain.

I quickly washed myself in the shower, putting bandages on some of the deeper cuts afterwards.

I then walked to my closet and took on some grey sweatpants and an oversized black sweatshirt. I was a bit dizzy, but tried to ignore it.