𝙿𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝙿𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚜 ~➶𝙱𝚘𝚔𝚞𝚊𝚔𝚊 𝙾𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝➷

Ｐａｌｅ Ｐａｔｔｅｒｎｓ

☆~As a child akaashi has always felt different from others, whether it be in looks or abilities, to him he was inferior to his peers in all aspects. As he grew older, the boy developed PTSD. Nightmares of the faces and events he would try so hard to forget would come choke him while in slumber.

☆~His workaholic parents who would neglect him, more focused on climbing the company ranks rather than raise their child. Being recorded in his room while changing without his consent or awareness by one of his parents close friends, only in the end to be called a liar and an attention seeker when confronting his parents. The voices of his parents as they argue almost every night, the sound of glass breaking, the screaming, yelling, crying,doors slamming shut. All these circling in his mind while his demons held him down and spoon feed him every single detail of the events he wished he could erase from his memory, each nightmare more vivid than the last.

☆~Entering high school, the boy fell into a state of depression.Like a fly caught in a spider web, he felt trapped. Caught in a spiral of inflicting self harm onto himself one way or the other. Whether it be drugs, alcohol, cutting, anything to make him feel something other than numbness he felt within himself, he just wanted to feel alive for once. He went through high school with average grades nothing out of the ordinary,never really stood out of the crowd. He was alone,even in group projects his partners would try to avoid communication or interaction with him but it wasn't like akaashi was fond of interacting either. People payed him no mind as they didn't care enough to become "buddy buddy" with the weird and quiet "emo kid".

☆~High school is suppose to be one of the most memorable parts of your life right?

☆~Well who ever said that was either speaking out of their ass or their world was filled with unicorns and rainbows because all akaashi got from high school was his body turning in a slab of meat that he slices whenever the voices that would continuously whisper to him was unbearable. His body was covered in scars, each cut deeper than the last,his face and neck were the only untouched parts of his body. But even then the voices wouldn't stop,always whispering,always laughing. Slowly pushing at his sanity.

☆~Eventually, the last of his sanity was taken away from him one night,his mind and spirit was already weakened and influenced from either substance abuse or his forever detoriating mental health. It was overwhelming and for once in his life,akaashi felt like he was going insane. That same night was akaashi's downfall .And by that I mean he fell off a bridge, head first into a lake. Letting the voices be carried away by the sound of the wind hitting his ear drums, mind blank as he hit the ice cold water, the coldness numbing his skin. His thoughts replaced with the sound of the water. Exhaling, slowing losing his supply of oxygen, he watched the bubbles float up as he descends. Vision blurry,letting out a final breath, lungs filling with water. His surroundings disappearing, being engulfed in darkness, losing consciousness.

☆~That is until a new color stood out in the darkness.

Gold~♡

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Akaashi is currently alive and is slowly recovering,his mental and overall health much better than it previously was. After being kept under observation in the hospital for a few weeks after he attempted to commit suicide. Akaashi used that time to think and figure himself out,searching through the map of his soul.

When he was released he went to a therapist recommended by the hospital. At first it was difficult, he couldn't talk about himself or the events without getting choked up or completely shutting the therapist out, refusing to utter a word.

It took him a month before he could some what talk about the events that haunted him. And let me tell you, from there akaashi only got better, determined to overcome his demons and conflicting thoughts, each meeting he would push himself to his limit, words falling out his mouth endlessly, each syllable filled with emotion and pain,voice increasing in volume with each sentence. He would talk and talk until he could no longer use his voice,throat dry like the trail of tears on his face.