𝕋𝕠𝕠 𝕄𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕂𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕐𝕠𝕦 ~ 𝕄𝕒𝕪𝕝𝕠𝕣

**UNEDITED** BRIANS POV

THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN REWRITTEN

THIS IS WHAT WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED

once again... I lay here all day, wasting my useless life away, staring up at the ceiling. I think about the same things I've been thinking about for the past 53 hours. occasionally my asthma would trigger again, but I can't find my inhaler anymore.

I haven't eaten at all, but honestly, I don't care anymore. I've been locked in this room the whole time.

roger ditched me. I'll never find a boyfriend. I'll be alone probably the rest of my life judging by where I am

now. I love Roger, but he doesn't love me.

I toss and turn around trying to get these feelings off of me. (terrible idea really)

roger

Anjelica

forever alone

the thoughts fill my mind. and I start to spiral downhill.

I feel frustrated and angry with myself again.

I reach up and pull my hair really hard again. it works a bit, so I keep doing that. I check the time and its around 10:25am.

I haven't been tracked how long I've been laying here. all I know is that I haven't gotten up in over 3 days.

I'm so alone. nobody to cry about my problems to. nobody to come and help me when I need it. no support from anyone.

I'm just a burden and a pest to everyone around me. no wonder Roger chose Anjelica over me because I'm a freak.

I pull on my hair a little harder... still nothing. then I try the scratching again. it's working a little bit now.

I feel more tears running down my cheeks. the salty water burns the scratches on my skin.

I feel like I need to scream really loud, but I live in a condo. I don't want to bother people any more than I already am.

I scratch myself harder, almost making myself bleed.

still not enough.

I scratch harder with my sharpest nails, breaking the skin but not bleeding.

STILL NOT ENOUGH.

I sit upright on my bed and take my nails and slowly dig them right into my arm.

Unlike last time when I was quickly scratching myself all over.

I feel my nails scraping off a thin piece of skin from my wrist, all the veins and tendons moving around under my fingers as I ripped myself apart.

that felt a bit better as the spots I scraped off were bleeding the slightest bit.

I think some more as I can't stop myself from it.

I really shouldn't exist. I don't fit anywhere. I'm that lost puzzle pieces that doesn't seem to fit anywhere so you have you shove it in somewhere and wreck the other pieces around it, and the only piece I fit with decided it wanted to fit a different piece.

I feel so alone and sad. I can't go to anyone about it or else I'll be labelled as the attention seeker.

I continue scraping the skin off myself, feeling all the veins and tendons moving under my skin, but suddenly, it doesn't do its thing anymore.

I start contemplating what I should do next. should I just suffer here in my depression or do something about it. I try digging my nails in further but it doesn't help anymore.

I look around the room and see if I can find something that if I used it a certain way, it would be painful.

my eyes fall on the pencil sharpener I had left on my desk.

I get up for the first time in 3 days and I can barely walk properly. I move over to the pencil sharpener.

do I really think this is going to make me feel better? yes.

I move my shaky hands up to the desk and take the sharpener and bring it over to my bed. I sit on the edge and look at the pencil sharpener in my hand.

should I really do this? will someone see my scars and tell me I'm only seeking attention? not if I don't come to school.

my hands are super shaky because I haven't been eating at all. I slowly unscrew the blade off of the pencil sharpener with the tip of some really dull pair of scissors I found laying around.

I hold the blade in my hand and stare at it. what if roger notices? what would he think? would he try to avoid me for it?

I bring my left wrist up and move the blade closer and closer to it.

I hesitate before pressing the blade into my skin.

I feel the blade touch my skin, break it and then slice right through the layers, separating the skin, the muscle. I feel the blade deep within my skin, slicing through flesh.

I feel even more tears as I clench my teeth hard in pain, trying hard not to scream or yell as I pull the blade down my wrist.

I've gone a lot deeper than I had intended.

I feel hot drips of blood streaming down the sides of my wrist and my arm.

I continue dragging the blade down my arm, about 2 inches deep, slicing my skin and muscle.

"aaahhhaaa ow!" I quietly mutter, watching the blood pour out of my left forearm.

I pull the blade out and grab tissues to mop up all the blood. I don't want anyone to find out what I've been doing to myself.

finally, the stress is gone. now it's just the pain from the 4-inch gash I've made in my wrist. I hold tissues on the gash and some on the floor as some of the blood had dripped off my wrist. I feel the two sides of this gash separating and squeezing back together. I can also feel corners of the tissues going inside of the gash.

I try to hold the two sides together with the best I can to try and stop the bleeding. the two sides are naturally drifting apart from each other but I guess that's just because of gravity. the cut goes so deep I could probably stuff an entire tissue inside of it.

I've lost a lot of blood already. I go to the first aid box in my closet and take out the bandages. (i need to wrap myself up if I don't want to die. death is too scary)

I cut a lot deeper than most people who cut... I cut WAY deeper... too deep. I thought about cleaning it with isopropyl alcohol (that stuff that looks like water and stings like hell) if I wanted to keep my arm.

I soaked a cotton ball in the alcohol and pressed it onto the cut, filling it with the alcohol.

it burned like hell.

this works a lot better than just small scratches and hair-pulling.

I cleaned it up a bit more and then wrapped it gauze I've been keeping for years. at this point, it's probably not even sterile anymore. I began wrapping my arm in the gauze and right away, blood seeped right through.

I ended up wrapping it super tight and super thick.

the stress was starting to come back again. sooner or later, someone's going to see this bandage. should I just wear sweaters and bell sleeves all the time? what if Anjelica notices? what would she say about it?

I don't go as deep as before. the blade penetrates my skin and slices through.t it?

the stress comes back again and so I take my blade and cut again. a small spot that isn't covered by a bandage.