CHAPTER 3

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Izuku stayed on the ground, knowing if he moved even an inch, the punishment would be so much worse.

Soon his dad came back, dragging the whip that he held across the floor.

"You know the drill. 5 hits. Understand?"

Izuku looked at him and flinched, just nodding. Then his dad proceeded to lean in dangerously close to him. "With. Your. Words." He growled, pausing between each word.

"I-I understand.." He replied quietly, his voice shaking.

His dad stood up straight and without any warning, whipped him in the stomach. Izuku screamed as the whip hit him, already starting to cry.

He whipped Izuku two more times. He yelped but it was quieter since after the third hit he got slightly used to it.

His dad must have noticed this, because he just watched his son cry for a minute before whipping him for the fourth time. Izuku screamed again, being less used to it after that long.

He whipped him one more time and then just kicked Izuku in stomach, walking away as his son continued to sob.

Izuku just continued to cry for another half an hour before slowly getting up off the floor and walking to his room, his legs shaking.

He crawled to where he kept his box of sharp objects and snatched the box, grabbing a pocket knife. He pulled down his sleeve and ripped off the messy bandaging that he had put on his arm the other day.

Without wasting any time he just started cutting into his wrist and up his arm.

1... for being useless...

2... for making everyone's lives worse...

3... for doing everything wrong...

4... for being a quirkless wannabe...

He just continued to cut while thinking of every thing he hates about himself.

He got to 35 on each arm before stopping, thinking that if he continued, he could possible bleed through the new bandages that he was about to put on.

He didn't want anyone to notice.. not because he didn't want to get caught though.. he just didn't want anyone's fake pity.

He watched the blood drip off his arms for a minute before grabbing the bandages and wrapping both of his arms up.

He then threw the knife back into the box and just layed on the floor, his eyes wide and staring at the ceiling the whole time, not getting an ounce of sleep.


Ayyy the depresso expresso is happeninggg- acTUally it's been happening the whole timeee- hEhEhEHe- Okay I'm done now-

-Kk

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