My strange addiction

Fresh

~Dean's POV~

I walked down the hallway and made my way towards my room. I pushed the door open and took a few steps in and inhaled and exhaled as thoughts of the forbidden that I crave rushed through my mind. I sat at the end of my bed and just grounded myself in a comfortable position. I bent over and put my elbows on my knees and covered my eyes, imagining ways to feel better. The thoughts of everything making me bury my face further into my hands seeking some sort of comfort. I turned to my side table. Staring at the picture of me and that sweet blue eyed boy and that long haired brother of mine. They looked happy in that photo. I stared at it and let out a short exhale of air. I got up and walked towards my door looking at both ends of the hallway to make sure that Sammy wasn't out there. I closed my door but not all the way. I walked towards the picture and flipped it to the back side and felt the soft fabric at the back. I ran my hand over the screws and took the frame apart. Revealing my favorite little trinket. I took the sharp blade and twirled it in my fingers. I couldn't help but feel the urge to use it. I've done so much bad. But I can make it all go away. Even if it is temporary. I ran my index finger over the edges. I began walking towards the bathroom. Once I was out of my room I hid it between my fingers and opened the bathroom door. I set it down on the right side of the sink. I put my hands on the cold ceramic and looked up in the mirror. I stared at myself in the eyes, tracing my figure with my eyes. Disgusting. You should be ashamed. I took a deep breath and thought about it. This would be three years down the drain. All of those days and months of recovery. Gone. I rolled my left sleeve up, moving the slightly torn flannel. But with no hesitation I grabbed my tool in my right hand and placed it at my left inner arm. Tracing the old white lines up and down as if I was reading a book. I pushed a corner in and felt slight relief as I felt the sharp, cold metal peirce my skin. There it is, that pain, oh how I missed that familiar feeling.I slowly drug it towards my body, keeping the same pressure. It wasn't deep enough to severely damage me but it was enough for now. I began to feel so much better. More.I moved back up to the beginning of the first wound. I watched the red seep and bead up. I moved up and to the right I began again and drug it towards my body with the same pressure as the first one. Then again to the left of the first one. Then again. I watched as the blood started to gather and drip. I watched as each drop fell onto the white ceramic. I looked up at myself and stared at myself in the mirror. Focusing on the green in my eyes and moved down to the red on my arm. I flushed the toilet to not look suspicious. I set it down and it fell there with a light tinking noise. Then I turned the water on and I began to cup water on the blood that fell in the sink. I began to wash the blood off my arm, the rust color began disappearing off my arm. Then I rinsed the blade off.I rolled down my sleeve and put pressure on my wounds, trying to stop the bleeding. Then I grabbed my destructive yet pleasing tool, and walked back into my room. I put the blade back in the frame and set it up nicely. I sat at the end of my bed. And let a low feeling wash over me.

I felt fresh.

Hiiiii this was really short and I'm sorryyyyy. Please tell me what you think and your suggestions. I read everything. Thank you♡︎