Nauseous - Skephalo

" N O . . . " - C H A P T E R E I G H T

TW: Suicidal thoughts, self-harm, verbal abuse, offensive language, mentions of self-harm and blood

~~~DARRYL'S POV~~~

I hid my face from the movie, only peeking out occasionally to check on Zak and Vincent. Vincent kept staring at Zak. Almost constantly. 

'Is he... okay?'

I watch as Zak rubs his arms, flinching at a scream that came from the TV, I flinch as well. I look down at my phone to check the time. It's 5:34 p.m. "Okay, I'm going to make dinner," I declare, standing up. 

"Wait, where are your parents? Shouldn't they be here, making dinner or something?" Vincent asks. Zak stared at me as well, with an expression that said he had the same question.

"Oh, they're on a business trip," I explain, walking into the kitchen to start cooking. I watch as Zak follows me. "Wait, why are you following me, Zak?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"I-I'm bored of t-the movie," Zak responds, his voice shaky and horse.

"Oh, okay," I say as I begin making dinner, pausing in front of the fridge, trying to decide what to make. After a minute of thinking, I finally decide to make spaghetti. I grab all the ingredients and set them on the counter, setting the tomato on the cutting board so that I can cut it. I begin to cut it when...

~~~ZAK'S POV~~~

I watch as Darryl cuts his finger, flinching as he does. He quietly mutters something that I can't hear before briskly walking over to the sink, and running the cut under cold water, wincing in pain as he did. I observe the water splitting over his finger, turning red as it does. That reminds me that I can't cut here.

'Oh god, I almost forgot. I need to find a way to cut.'

I silently wish that it was me that had cut my finger. At least then I would feel the pain I deserved.

'Yes. You do deserve it.'

"Zak? Are you alright?" I heard Darryl say. I only now realize that I'm looking at the ground, biting my lip so hard that it's bleeding. 

"O-Oh, uh y-yes," I reply, nodding.

"Good. Then can you get me a bandaid from the bathroom? Go down the hall, it's the second door on the right," Darryl gives me directions to the bathroom and I nod.

'Maybe there's something in the bathroom I can cut with...?'

I walk into the bathroom and start looking through the drawers for the band aids. I rummage through one of the drawers, then I see something glinting from the light of the bathroom light hitting it. I look closer, finding a razor.

'Perfect.'

I smile, picking up the razor and examining it. Of course, I need a screwdriver to detach the razor blade from the handle.

"Zak? Can you hurry up please?!" I hear Darryl call from down the hall. I sigh, putting the razor back and continuing my search for band aids. I find the box of bandaids in the bottom drawer and grab one out of the box, and put the box back where it was, closing the drawer. I briskly go back to the kitchen, handing Darryl the bandaid.

"Oh my goodness, thank you," Darryl sighs in relief, putting the bandaid on his finger, before continuing to make dinner like nothing happened. As I watch him, thoughts of the razor flood my mind.

Timeskip-

"Zak? Dinner's ready," Darryl called from the kitchen. I groan as I get up from where I was sitting on the couch, dreading having to eat. I walk over to the kitchen and see Darryl and Vincent sitting at the dining room table, eating spaghetti, with a plate on the opposite side of the table. I assume that's my plate, so I sit down at on the chair with the plate in front of it, and stare at my food, hesitating.