ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜᴇ || тѕυккιуαмα ||

81

TW: mentions of suicide/derealization
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The comforting bath water that flowed around my fragile body began to run cold and rigid. It forced my frame to ice over and crack and shiver more than usual.

Kei didn't notice the shift of moods in that bathroom—he didn't noticed my shallow breaths or twitching fingers that compressed against his left cheek. Kei didn't notice anything.

He still sat on his knees, keeping a steady gaze along my arm while tracing the scars thoughtfully, earnestly. A sort of withdrawn nature ran down his features after confessing to something only I could've grown within him--something only I could've planted and watered with poison.

and those flinching fingers delicately wedged between Kei's cold hand and jaw began to tighten and dig, nails clinging into the side of him until that easy, beautiful expression winced in pain.

"It's all my fault, Kei.." my eyebrows arched inward and very quickly—violently, I shot my left arm up to completely cup Kei's now stunned, wide-eyed, frown. "If I didn't exist you'd be so mu-much happier... you wouldn't have started smoking or taken care of my stupid panic attacks or gotten held at gun point or-or been sexually and physically and-fuck, mentally abused by me or thought of harming y-yourself.." Manic tears glossed my eyes and I gripped the blonds thin jaw with so much force, my knuckles went white and red. "..or be in so much pain r-right now, either."

Kei's frozen, alarmed expression darted jumbled eyes back and forth from my own dangerously jittery ones—attempting to read my emotions and pull us back into a stoicism atmosphere. But, I knew he was too afraid.

Too afraid of messing up and tipping over what little sanity I'd collected in the psych ward.

I wanted so desperately to cling onto stability and the desire of our future together—I needed to let Kei know I wasn't still in need of being held in a mental hospital. Yet, the words that desperately slipped from my subconscious begged to differ.

"Kei... Kei, don't you wish I was never in your life? If you'd just ignored m-me instead of calling out that bully... if you'd just kept walking..." I began to hyperventilate and my words jumbled into one another sporadically. "Don't y-you regret meeting me? Why don't you hate me? Ha-ave you been lying this whole time? Why the hell would you spend money on me? Why the hell are you fighting so hard even when I-I abused you?" Tears ran down my cheeks when I tightened my eyes shut, feeling a boundless hammering echo throughout my temples and forehead and rationality.

That raging sensation bubbled eagerly at the tips of my fingers and in the pit of my stomach, it was getting familiar—the way my emotions would spiral into immense anger. The faint sound of my boyfriends deep, apprehensive voice muffled profoundly within my ears.

"Hey, h-hey..." is what I believe he was whispering while my nails continued to force discomfort and grunts of pain from the blond.

I don't want to go back. I can't go back.

Suffocating wheezes attacked my lungs and I grit my teeth, struggling intensely with the absolute drive to tear Kei's fragile skin off and watch blood merge through the frigid, hazy bath water.

But I continued to resist the urge of violence.

Shrieking murmurs of extreme hardship buzzed briskly within the bathroom, shaking the walls and ceilings and floors and every nerve in my body. And I knew if I let the walls and ceilings and floors crash from around me, I'd never find my way out again—that if I were submitted to the ward anew, there's no doubt in my mind I'd die there.