*Disclaimer* If you have struggled with self harm and suicide attempts in the past and are afraid descriptions and details of this may trigger relapse please. Do not read farther.
If only you knew what went on in my mind, what I heard, what I saw... WHO I saw. Maybe then you'd know why I did what I did. Maybe you'd understand. Let me explain it. I have these... friends I guess they could be called. Like any friends. They tell you what they think, warn you,
sometimes tell you to do bad things. These friends are in my head, three of them, two male and one female. No. No. They're not my friends. No. I don't like them. And there's only one who can make them stop. Just the one. Only one. The only way to escape the defining silence that makes them speak. Never stoping. Telling me horrable things. Bad. Bad. Bad bad badbad. Horrible things. When she's gone. "She left you" "she's ended it and you couldn't stop her this time" "she was just another one of us" and then I scream. And they stop for a while. Sometimes they're quiet without her though. When... he's there. "He" I use loosely. He's tall... very tall. He has to bend over just to stand in my room. He has long arms they hang down to his ankles. His skin is ashen grey. Large black eyes but you always know when he's looking at you. And no mouth. He speaks in my head too. I know it's not another one of them because his voice is different. And only when he's here. Only when he's standing there. Watching me. Always watching. Always. Even when he's not here I can feel his eyes on me. Never blinking. Never stoping. His voice is different than theirs deeper, slow, with no emotion, and so so quiet almost a whisper. And if I look into his eyes... he shows me things. Sometimes it's me and a friend just talking. Others its... bad. Her leaving. Forever. My death. Bad. Bad things. Before her it was very hard to make them stop. The pain made them quiet... for a while. But it kept taking more and more. A pinch. A rubber band. A bite... it wasn't long before I had to start drawing blood. That's where the knives came in. They were quick. Efficient. They worked. For a while. I would cut. Deeper and deeper. More and more. But it wouldn't stop. They wouldn't shut up. He wouldn't go away. Always. Always talking. Always watching. Never stopping. I had to shut them up. For good. That was the first time I tried. I slashed my wrist. Blood everywhere. Stained everything. I got cold. And dizzy. Then I passed out. I woke up in a hospital. I... woke up. At all. I don't know how. But as soon as I did "you can't even do that right" and more taunting. And... He just stood there and watched me. Every night, He never left my bedside. I got home. Endured three months of being on watch and was at it again. Cutting I mean. And it worked again. As the blade sliced through my flesh, they would stop. Then I met her. Her voice. Her presence. It seemed to drive them away. And so we never stopped talking. We were practically inseparable. She was my best friend. Was. One day she left me though. After all we had been through. She just stopped answering. They jumped on that chance. So... I tried again this time. I slashed both of my wrists. And took everything I could get my hands on. That's how I was found. Blood everywhere and choking in my own vomit. I don't know how I survived but I'm alive. But I wouldn't exactly call it "living". White padded walls. All the time. They say the medicine will make them stop but I know it won't. Even as I write this I can feel him watching me. Watching. Waiting. Now do you understand why I did this? If only you knew my mind... They gave me this pencil though. It's sharp. I won't fuck up this time. Third times the charm.
-This note was found crumpled in the corner of a mans cell. The man had managed to kill himself with the pencil they had provided. On the back written is what can be assumed was his own blood was one sentence.
He's still watching
