꧁༒ 𝓼𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵𝓸 𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼𝓽 ༒꧂

⭐Nico⭐

TW: Self harm/suicide attempt, eating disorder

I was alone in my cabin. My so-called 'sister' had left me alone to go on a date with her boyfriend, Frank, even though I had asked Hazel to stay behind with him to eat his dinner. I had anorexia and needed someone to eat with me or else I didn't eat.

 I sat on the edge of my bed bored and feeling lost. Everyone in my pathetic little life left me. First my mother, then Bianca. No wonder Hazel and Frank didn't want to be near me. I am a sad, lonely-looking person and no one ever wanted to be near me, not even my boyfriend Will. 

I had dabbled in self-harm in the past and had hundreds of scars along my body that were self-inflicted. Will had banned me from sharp things, taking my infamous Stygian iron sword away from him, like I was a child. Fortunately, I had gone to the dinning pavilion for once, and had stolen a rather sharp steak knife from a neighboring table. I wasn't even allowed a knife at my table, as Will had gone around and told everybody not to trust me with swords, daggers, knives and spears. Not that I needed weapons to hurt himself, I already had grown my fingernails long to scratch into my arms, as I was not even allowed to own nail scissors to cut my nails.

 I also had a secret stash of sharp objects and weapons hidden all over the room including under Hazel's bed. It was a miracle she was such a heavy sleeper, as she slept on top of a knife that I had hidden under her mattress.

 My stomach growled, but I had learned over my numerous years of being a demigod the pains of hunger and how to ignore them. I padded, bare foot over to Hazel's bed and stuck my hand under the mattress, feeling around for the celestial bronze dagger stashed under it. I held it, alongside the stolen steak knife and sharpened the edges of both with a rock that he found on the side of the beach. When they were both visibly sharp, I held the steak knife to his left wrist and without thinking, slashed it deep across my wrist, burgundy red liquid following in its wake. I repeated the motion several times before picking up the dagger with shaking hands and slicing open the soft, pale skin of his lower torso. 

As I lay, bleeding out on the floor of my room he heard a banging on the door of my cabin and a familiar sounding voice calling my name. I swore in Ancient Greek before losing consciousness as the door of my cabin was knocked off its hinges with a bang and someone ran to my side screaming for medics.