~Letters~

I was the writer. I grabbed the knife that morning and sliced open my skin. WARNING GORE!

I felt the knife slip in as I gritted my teeth in pain. This was it. I could escape the hell I've been living. I could be free. I began to count.

1, for the ugly scar

2, for the neglect

3, for my dead brother

4, for my siblings,

5, to my classmates

6, to Mr. Aizawa

7. to All Might

8, to my dad

9, to my mom

10, to my hideous quirk

11, for the abuse

12, for the training

13, for having a quirk

14, for being the most harmed

15, for the peace I will be in

16, for the sleep I can finally get

17, for the hope my body won't be found

18, for the many pained nights

19, for the choice of not having pills

20, for not finding a better solution

21, for writing these letters

22, for not making myself come out to others

23, for my anxiety

I took a glance at the clock. It was five forty two. I smiled. No one would be up yet. Perfect for me to die in a ditch. I looked at my arms, soaked in blood, I took the knife and cut my other wrist.

24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42... I tried to stand up. I looked at the clock. Five fifty. I didn't realize how much time had passed. I then felt dizzy and staggered a few wobbling steps before falling. I was getting weaker and weaker. This was my last. I had no regrets. I was fading away. Six. It was six. Doors would be opening for breakfast now. Six o'clock.