You're ok - Todobaku

18

TW Body dysmorphia, Self-harm, Depressive thoughts, Bulimia, Panic attack

Todorokis POV

I wake up to my phone going off in my pocket. I groan and slowly reach for it. I turn off the alarm and sit up from the bench. I groan as I hear (and feel) my back crack after getting up from the uncomfortable position that I'd been in for about 4 hours now. I get up and stretch, some of my bones cracking more before I sit back down and order an Uber (I know you have to be 18 or older to order one but I don't care, I'm not going to have Todo hitchhiking back to U.A.)

I get one fairly quickly (which is surprising given the time) and he soon arrives. The ride is mostly silent as we drive about 20 minutes back. We soon get there, I pay, and I head into the dorms. I get there a few minutes before 5, the usual time Katsuki will get up and call me, and head to my room. Katsuki is still asleep so I just sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for the alarm to go off. It goes off at 5 exactly and he groans, getting up and turning it off.

He rubs his eyes and looks at me. "Oh, hey. You're here." he says. "Yeah, I guess I am." I respond to him. He stays silent for a minute maybe a minute, probably trying to wake up more. "So what'd do last night?" "Nothing really." I respond. It's basically the truth though, I walked and I slept, that's about it. He just nods and gets up, grabbing his bag and heading out. I take my quick shower before grabbing my razor from the cupboard below the sink.

Why do I do this? I hold it in my hand and stare at myself in the mirror past my hand holding the blade, there is my skinny body. I put my hand down and stare in disgust. All I see is a fat body, a person who just let themselves go but in reality, you can begin to see my ribs and my collarbones are once again more prominent. I run my hand up and down my arm and though I feel every bone sticking out of the pale skin, I look in the mirror and all I see is fat. Fat, it's all I see on me and it's all I think I am.

I try and pry my attention from my disgusting body and instead focus on the small blade between my fingertips. I bring it up from my side and bring it up near my face to stare at it. It's so shiny and it's almost beautiful. I bring it away from my face and place it on my thigh.

One cut for being so ugly and fat.

 Two cuts for not trying to get better.

Three cuts for being a burden to everyone around me. 

Four cuts for being so weak.

Five cuts.

Six cuts.

Seven.

...

Ten.

...

Twenty.

There's so much blood. 

It hurts.

I drop the blade as I begin to feel dizzy. I back myself against the wall and slide down it. Tears begin to flow and I look down and see the blood flowing down my legs and beginning to stain my boxers. I attempt to move some and I manage to reach the small fist aid kit from under the sink. I open it and grab the roll of bandages, tightly wrapping it around my legs. I know it's not the proper way to clean it but it'll be fine for now since I don't want to pass out before it's cleaned.

I finish wrapping the cuts and just stare at them. The bleeding has slowed since there's now pressure on the wounds and I'm slowly but surely beginning to see clearly since my tears have stopped and I'm not very dizzy anymore. I slowly get up and start to clean up. I change into a different pair of boxers and try my best to clean the blood-stained floor. After a few minutes, the bathroom is cleaned up the best I can get it for now and so I grab my bookbag and stumble downstairs.