All is Fair in War || SBI || Mafia AU

࿏ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 25 ࿏

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Brutal

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TW// Self Harm

Inspired by Olivia Rodrigo: Brutal

He was so sick of being seventeen.

He was most likely going to die before he could even drink. Everyone around him pitied him. He takes one attempt on his life and it's like he's stuck in his own personal hell. His family couldn't let him go. He was their little exhibit and his oldest brother loved to torture him. He had been his brother's play toy for the past fourteen years of his life; ever since his mother's death. He was a prisoner in his own life and he was itching to get out.

He watched his own crimson liquid leak down his arm, a satisfying and familiar feeling dripping down his arm. The sound of the drops hitting the sink rang out, a small smile creeping onto his face; he couldn't help but be happy by the sensation. It gave him a rush and he yearned for more.

He looked down at the blade in his right hand, it was covered in his own DNA, something he wasn't sure if he should be proud of anymore. As much as he loved his family, he also hated them. His dad was a loving man but the leader of a drug cartel, one of his older brothers was a man of logic who adored his family but was a drug dealer and his other brother was a total dickhead who knew which artery would kill a person faster while he was just a kid with issues who was a burden to all those around him.

He brought the silver metal back to his wrist, one more added to his gallery of scars. He knew it was only a momentary solution to a while-long problem... maybe if he dug the metal deeper it would give him an easier solution to his problem...

"Tommy!" A voice called out from outside the bathroom, a soft knock on the wooden door. The blonde's blue eyes widened as he dropped the razor into the sink and turned on the tap. He shoved his arms under the water, the sting of the meeting two liquids causing him to hiss out in pain.

"Y-yeah?" He stuttered.

"You've been in there for like, an hour, you alright?"

"Yeah... I'm okay... Just finishing up!" He called out, scrubbing the sink with his fingers to get the blood out of the cracks. He shoved his hoodie sleeves down his arms, turned off the tap and made a dash for the doorknob. When he opened it he was met with the face of his drug dealer of an older brother.

He wore a friendly smile and his usual get-up; a brown coat to his knees, a yellow sweater and a black beanie over his brown. Basic bitch. Tommy tried to push past, putting in his act of a big man by scoffing at the stupid look on his brothers face.

Wilbur put an arm out in front of him to stop the teenager from walking past. The blonde paused and looked up at his brother, an unamused expression on his face. What did he want now?

The older man scanned his eyes over his brother. He had bad eye bags under his eyes, a tired expression outweighing his current mood and his skin seemed to be paler. Sam had been on the teenager's ass about eating and was constantly making sure he was getting the nutrition and hydration he denied himself the past week. Wil narrowed his eyes as the boy next to him tugged slightly at his hoodie sleeves.

He moved his arm down, Tommy beginning to walk away without questioning it. He was too tired for this bullshit. He didn't get far before Wilbur grabbed his upper arm, stopping the boy from getting any farther. The blonde was held in place as he looked up towards his older brother.

"What the fuck?"

"What were you doing? Are you okay, Toms?" His voice went soft. Tommy hated it. He needed Wilbur to stop pitying him and to start rough-housing with him again; shove him around and make taunting jokes. He needed his brother to be a rock for him but right now he was just a soggy bit of paper that fell apart at a single touch.