Breathe

falling.

~tw whole chapter~

When he woke up the next morning, Clay decided he wanted to stream. It had brought him immense relief previously, so he figured that maybe it would numb the pain of yesterday a little bit.

He brushed his teeth and washed his face. His eyes were so puffy and his cheeks were red like roses. It was a good thing he had yet to do a face-cam, because if he had to he would look like shit on camera.

And so Clay started the stream. He started interacting with his fans, and that made him feel a little bit better. He hopped onto the SMP and worked on getting more netherite to replace his armor. Slowly, the heartache that weighed on his chest lifted, and he felt more normal than before. This was good for him.

Out of nowhere, a voice played through his headphones.

"Hi Dream, will you give me some advice ? I'm feeling really lonely and I kind of want to cut myself right now. Thank you and I love you."

The donation speech hit him like a truck. His vision swept sideways and all noises from the stream went silent. He felt his world sliding. Cutting did sound pretty nice, now that he thought about it...

"Um, well, my first piece of advice is don't, obviously. I know it may seem difficult, but just try and calm down enough to think more rationally," Clay said slowly, almost trying to convince himself as much as he was convincing the stream.

"Second, get rid of all of your blades, don't even give yourself the opportunity to do anything. And third, I think you need to go talk to someone you love and trust, and maybe let them help you with this. There is absolutely nothing wrong with getting help."

Clay continued the stream for a little bit longer, but ultimately ended it earlier than intended. He couldn't stop thinking about cutting, thinking about the way the blade felt when it sliced across his skin, the way it felt when it left...

This is ridiculous. No, he told himself. You are not going to cut because of some donation that triggered you. You are better than that.

He stood up and went downstairs into the kitchen, his eyes immediately falling upon the set of kitchen knives George had purchased. Stop it, he thought to himself.

But what if you just do it once- stop it, you are not cutting- just one little cut, it's no big deal- nope, not going to do it- oh come on you know you want to- no I really don't- no one is going to notice- right but that's bad, they're keeping me in check- are they though ? are they really ? yes, they are my best friends in the entire world and they would never- they would though, especially with someone as needy as you- stop it, that's not true- you're so needy, god, they're just so tired of you- no they're not, I really don't think they are- they are, they just don't want to tell you because you're the fragile boy who's suicidal- I am not fragile- the fragile boy who's suicidal who can't keep himself away from a set of kitchen knives- I am NOT fragile I can do this- you're pathetic, you know that right ? I am not pathetic I can do this- you're sickening. honestly- please stop I'll do anything- anything ? anything please just stop- cut then- no please- you know you want to- fine just leave me alone please just stop-

Reaching for the knives, Clay felt his insides fall into pieces. He stopped suddenly, realizing that those are actually good kitchen knives and it would be a shame if he ruined them with his blood. So he reached into a drawer instead and pulled out a leftover pumpkin carving knife, shoving it into his pants pocket and running up the stairs and into his bathroom.

It was still quite sharp, even after the three of them carved pumpkins. We carved pumpkins !! Clay please don't do this you know you can beat this. He knelt down onto the floor and leaned against the cabinets. It would feel nice to do it again, even just once, please don't do this Clay.