Change ~ Syndisparklez

Cpt. 12 Symbol

(Italics are Tom's nightmare. Sorry if i didn't make that clear!
** Small mention of self harm**

Tom POV

The air cold and sufffocating, while the sounds of my thoughts filled the silence. My chest getting heavier and heavier with every rushed step I took as I ran. My breathing becoming shaky with every word going through my head. This wasn't the first time I had done this, but I didn't want it to be my last.

I swiftly ducked into the alley and rushed up the rusted ladder knowing it's weak points and carefully avoiding them. I rolled into the familiar broken window and layed on the dust-laced floor. I tried steading my breath and clearing my running brain. I stayed, laid on the cold wooden floor, soon closing my eyes as I regained my thoughts.

I let a small smile through my heavy breathing. Though it wasn't right, this adrenaline gave me joy no matter how many times I've done it already. It seemed to be the only thing that made me smile, one way or another.

I got up and made myself aware of my my often visited surroundings. It was gloomy and things looked untouched. It had been abandoned for who knows how long, but I've been coming here for years. I knew it like it was my own home, it was my own home. The one place I felt like everything seemed normal.

I made my way towards the bathroom. For some reason I stopped at the full body mirror in the hallway. I stood amazed, examining myself. I rarely used mirrors, I didn't like looking at the person I was, I preferred to imagine myself. A better, good and happy self. But there I was with messy hazel hair. I looked tiny but I had muscle, my face seemed sunken and sad being covered in dirt. It looked like I was about 15 to 16. I was never sure since I haven't heard word of my birthday since I was 6. Maybe it was better not knowing how many years I've bared this.

I turned my head away from the hideous reflection and went back on track towards the bathroom. I believe it was a old apartment building but the whole thing was abandoned. On the walls were pictures of a family, the one that lived here I assumed. I always gaze at them. Noticing how happy the family must have been, having each other. A man, a woman, a little girl as well as a boy, whom had a resemblance to me.

I'd scratched out every picture in here with the exception of that one. I guess even though I hid all my feelings, I secretly wanted that, a family to love. And a place I can actually call a home. After all a home is with the one's you love.

I walked away from the picture before my thoughts could come. My mind always went to the fastest way out of the pain of my life. I opened the bathroom door and immediately went to the knife I left to reside there. In my earlier years I did want to stop, I didn't want to hurt like this anymore, I didn't want this to be my only way out. Now, it's completely opposite. I craved the pain and the relief along with the scars. I had given up hope, and I didn't intend on getting it back.

One for being alone.

The cold blade letting out warm liquid.

One for my parents.

Another line causing more to flow out as I winced at the pain.

And one for myself.

I set the dreaded thing back onto the counter, and with fresh tears and wounds I decided to wet them. I bent over the sink and splash my face with the cold water. Trying hard to wash away everything but failing.

"You don't need to do that to yourself." A soft calm voice called from behind me, catching me off guard. I turned around and leaned against the sink scared to see a man. Stood directly infront of me.