Tommyinnit oneshots (DISCONTINUED)

Adoption

TW: Mention of ED and slight Ed, Mention of abuse, Intrusive thoughts, self-harm
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"Get up for breakfast brat," Tommy knew Rosa, A person that helped at the orphanage he was at, could be a bitch sometimes so he didn't say a comment back when she slammed open his door and told him to get up.

Tommy had been jumping from foster homes to foster homes since he could remember. Some good homes and some that still haunted his dreams and made him flinch whenever someone raised a hand. His stays were always temporary, as he was always 'not the right fit' or 'too loud' for the family. He was replaced within a week of staying at his supposedly 'new home' at this point he could care less if he was adopted or not. Hell, It was only five more years tell he turned eighteen years of age and could get out of this shit hole.

Tommy got dressed in a red and white baseball t-shirt. He went downstairs to the orphanage's meal area that was packed with kids of different ages.

He took one look at the food and his stomach turned. He didn't know why but about a year ago he started to eat food less and less. It would make his stomach turn and twist until he could hardly sit up straight without puking it up. So he kinda just stopped eating full meals. Sure, he knew it was probably bad but he didn't care about his body anyways.

Switch Tommys pov
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It was a normal day at the orphanage. I woke up avoided yet another meal, no one noticed for some reason,

Why would they care about you

No, no, no get out of my head!

Someone like yourself should be at a bottom of a lake

NO! I have people that care about me... Right?

No, no one cares about you

S-stop, please stop

I mean really why would someone care about a useless child like you?

I- you're right I guess no one cares about me, no one gives a fuck about me!

You know what to do.

I excused myself from the table to go to my room. On my way out I threw my untouched food in the garbage.

Once I got to my room I ran to my bathroom. I searched desperately in my bathroom cabinet for my razor blade.

Hurry up

Shut up I'm going as fast as I can.

I feel my hand touch cold medal and grab the razor blade.

DO IT

I listened to my intrusive thoughts and put the sharp blade up to my wrist and slid it across my arm. Ruby red lines began to form blood droplets.

1 cut, I promised myself I wouldn't do this

2, cuts this is okay

3, cuts I need more

MORE

4 cuts, that one was a little deep

5 cuts, holy shit there's blood everywhere

6 cuts, I deserve this

7 cuts, I should stop before I bleed out. Not like anybody would care, but still.

By the time I stopped my arms were covered in cuts. I had lost control over my body. This is the reason I stopped in the first place.