Misanthrope

25

A/N: Hi guys, just wanted to give a quick apology before I get started on the chapter.

I haven't been feeling very well lately and haven't been very active on Wattpad as a result of this.

I'm trying my best to get back at it though. Thanks for reading :)

:｡･:*:･ﾟ'★,｡･:*:･ﾟ'☆

TW

Sometimes you do stupid things just so you can feel something. Fight with people you love. Fight with yourself. Hurt yourself. To other people it might seem stupid, laughable, but in your head it makes so much sense.

I take in a deep breath and stare myself in the eyes in the mirror.

Everything hurts but I can't feel anything at the same time. I want to feel something, but when I feel emotion I want it all to go away.

The confusion racking my brain frustrates me further as I try to concentrate on crying.

But nothing happens.

No matter the scenario I think of in my head, the movie scene I watch, the song I listen to, I can't cry.

No matter how much I relate to a character in a book or in a show in a bad way, I can't cry.

No matter how much I stare at my reflection and think about how much I hate what I see, I can't cry.

When I look in the mirror I don't see a human being. I look dead. Empty. So fucking tired.

I told myself it wouldn't come to this. I've been doing so much better.

That's what they thought.

'Alex I'm so proud, you've come so far, you're doing so well'

'You're doing amazing, I'm so happy with how much better you are doing'

I don't know if they are stupid or if they are lying to themselves.

They must be great liars.

I have been standing in front of the mirror for ten minutes trying to convince myself not to do this.

That I don't want to do this.

That I don't need to do this.

But I guess I'm lying to myself as well.

I lift my top over my head and throw it on the ground, leaving it tossed across the bathroom.

My fingers don't tremble as I reach for it under the mirror, or when I bring it to my stomach.

My heart doesn't leap at the feeling of it gliding across my skin.

My stomach doesn't churn from the overwhelming amount of emotions flowing through my brain in the moment.

I feel nothing but the physical pain of the blade breaking the layers of my skin, and for a moment, it brings me peace.

It brings me solitude.

I let out the breath I had been holding and tell myself that it's worth it.

This is all worth it.

It feels good. It feels so good.

My body starts moving without my control. My fingers bringing the blade to glide across my skin. Digging deeper in some places and just grazing slightly in others.

After a while my mental battle ends and I clean the blade and screw it back into the pencil sharpener.

I look back into the mirror at myself and sigh.