Descendants BenXMal One Shots

That's Not The Answer

TRIGGER WARNING: LIKE A HUGE ONE!

WARNING: SELF HARM

Just a warning about this chapter, IF YOU WANT TO SKIP THIS CHAPTER BECAUSE IT'S NOT A NICE AS MY OTHER CHAPTERS THEN GO AHEAD, I WOULDN'T BLAME YOU. If you read this and get triggered, don't say I didn't warn you! Just to point out: I DON'T NOT CONDONE SELF HARM! I understand that it's people's choice but I do not agree with it.

PLEASE SKIP IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH ANY OF THIS

Ever since Mal had been on the Isle she had always been pressured, by her mother or by the people of the Isle to be the evilest that she can be. She never had any time to herself, no release of all the built-up pain that her mother caused her, all the pain that the people of the Isle had caused her. Every day was a struggle for Mal, a struggle to put a wicked smile on her face, a struggle to make sure her friends didn't see through her mask. Mal needed a release and magic wasn't even a possibility, Mal terrorized the people of the Isle but it wasn't enough. Stealing didn't quite cut it either until one night while Mal was terrorizing some local kids, Mal passed a dark alleyway with a small glint in. Mal stopped running after the kids and walked over to the alley.

The closer she got to the glint, the brighter it got as it reflected off the moonlight. Mal stared down at this mysterious object and began to reach down to touch it. As her palm of her hand reached closer to the ground to pick it up, Mal felt a prick on her skin. She quickly retracted her hand only to find that whatever the object was had cut her palm open. Mal didn't wince in pain or cry, all she did was stare at her hand, Mal didn't understand. The cut didn't cause her any pain, in fact, it took away some of the pain that everyone had caused. Mal reached back down, carefully, and picked up the object to see that it was a shard of a mirror. A small smile crept its way up to her face, she knew at that moment that the mirror shard was her release, not magic or terrorisation. She placed the mirror shard into her purple jacket pocket and made her way back to Bargain Castle.

Her mother was currently out of the castle, probably visiting Evil Queen like she usually does, so Mal took this as an opportunity to see if her theory was correct. She ran up the stairs and into her bedroom. It wasn't particularly big but the walls and roof were covered in black mold, her bookshelf was scratched bare and her armchair by the window that was once purple was now black with dirt. Mal slid onto her creaking bed and pulled the shard out of her pocket and placed in the palm that wasn't bleeding. Mal took the blade and began marking out in her head of where she would cut. She needed her legs to run away from angry vendors that she stole from, she needed her stomach to be as healed as possible so her next beating from her mother wouldn't be as painful. She needed the back of her legs so she could hide better from angry Islanders and her mother. The last place Mal thought of was her wrists. Mal decided that this was the best place as she didn't need her wrists as much on the Isle.

Mal rolled up the sleeve of the arm of her still bleeding palm. She rolled the jacket all the way back to her elbow and made sure that it was secure. Mal began to test her theory as she placed the shard at the top of her wrist by her elbow and added pressure as she slid the somewhat dirty shard across her wrist. The further she moved the blade, the larger the cut grew, which meant more pain went away. As she removed the blade from her skin she noticed that the pain inside her numbed. Something felt different inside Mal and it wasn't a bad different. Again, she took the shard and lined it up next to the bleeding cut on her wrist and applied more pressure to deepen the wound.

All Mal's pain was slowly beginning to slip away with every cut she made. This went on for another five minutes until her old bed sheets were drenched in blood from her wrists. The cuts had now expanded down from her left arm to her right arm. Both wrists were bleeding profusely. Some of her starting cut were slowly beginning to heal. Mal checked the cracked clock in her room to find that she had three minutes before her mother returned. Mal hid the mirror shard inside her bedside table and grabbed old clothes from her wardrobe and ripped pieces of cloth off to wrap around her wrists. Mal gripped the bedsheets from her bed and hid them in the back of her wardrobe. While cleaning up Mal noticed spots of blood on her pants but took no notice of them. As Mal turned around to her opening door, her mother appeared ready to teach Mal a lesson. It was lessons like those that encouraged Mal to keep cutting.