B R E A K - Jikook

2

so I don't normally do trigger warnings, but this chapter is extremely graphic and kinda gross so just be careful guys.

I grabbed the red box from the counter and lightly petted the soft velvet with my thumb. slowly, I pulled up the lid, opening the box with a soft pop. inside was my collection. small, but dangerous. 3 blades from a broken razor, 2 shards from a broken mirror, 2 triangular craft knife blades, and a small metal pencil sharpener blade. the first one I ever used, still stained with the red blood from a little over a year ago.

when it started I was always so guilty. I knew this was wrong, I knew I shouldn't be doing it and I knew how people would react if they found out, but I kept doing it. overtime though, I realized this was a part of my daily life now. I cut every single day, and after a year of no one finding out, I realized that no one really cared about me. I stopped feeling guilty then. now, all I feel is the release and the sweet stinging pain of punishment.

gently I fished through the box, deciding to use one of the triangular blades. they were slightly heavier, perfect for deeper cuts, and judging by the anger I was feeling that's probably what I would be m all ing anyway.

I lifted my right leg, going over it with my eyes to decide where I wanted to put the new marks. I landed on a place directly above last night, in the middle of my thigh. I set the red velvet box down next to me and closed the lid.

gently, I placed the sharp edge of the blade against my thigh, holding it between my thumb and index finger. I pushed down, letting the weight of the razor dig into my skin so it could properly rip it open when I sliced it. quickly, I slashed the blade across leaving an open white cut behind. I watched as slowly the white inside of my skin formed little red bubbles, before slowly filling up with the crimson liquid and beginning to drip out to the side.

I bit my lip. it wasn't enough. it wasn't deep enough, it didn't bleed enough, it didn't hurt enough.

I pushed the blade down again, slightly above the first cut. I pushed harder. I was so mad at myself. not only did I deserve punishment but I couldn't even give it to myself properly? I didn't deserve to be spared, I needed to be hurt more. if people saw my leg they'd probably laugh at me. I need it to be more severe so people know that I'm getting what I truly deserve.

I slashed the blade across again, flinching slightly at the sharp pain. I sucked in my breath. I looked down at my leg. the cut was about 2 centimeters wide. the inside was yellow with little bulging mounds of fat. the stinging pain controlled my whole body as I watched the cut begin to bleed. The bright crimson slowly filled the cut with a pool of blood, the light reflected off of it leaving bright white highlights. when the initial shock of pain wore off, I could feel my whole body begin to relax. it hurt. it hurt so much, it was amazing.

I couldn't focus on anything but the pain. The red blood dripped down and joined with the other cuts stream. it dripped onto the floor beginning to form a small puddle. suddenly I wished I could do this forever. I wanted to cut more and more. I wanted my whole body to be covered in blood. I placed the blade down again.

slice, another one. even deeper than the last. through the yellow fat, I could see a light blue streak. a vein. of course, there was a part of me telling me to cut that too, but I knew better than that. I placed the blade down again, settling to give myself one last deep cut before the urge got too strong.

the two cuts filled with blood, dripping down with even bigger droplets than the others. I made smaller cuts around the 3 big ones, covering the patch of skin in blood seeping down onto the floor. When I started to feel a bit light-headed, I knew it was time to stop. I put the razor down next to me, and let my mangled leg drop back down to the floor with a slight splash from the now quite large puddle of blood. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the door.

I took a deep breath, it smelled like iron. all of my emotions drifted away. the only thing I could feel was the pain. every time I did this I was surprised just how good it made me feel. it was a mystery to me why people thought this was so bad. it felt amazing. it was the one thing in life that I knew I could count on to make me feel better. it was my body anyway, others should have no say in how I treat it.

slowly, the pain subsided, leaving me alone in a puddle of my own blood. the red smeared against the white tile started to dry and become sticky. I sighed. I hated cleaning up afterward, I wish I didn't have to. the blood was so pretty, I didn't want to get rid of it. but unfortunately, normal people don't really see the beauty in it as I do. I pulled myself off the floor and sighed. I grabbed a towel from the cabinet, wet it, and began to clean up.