days||f.w x reader [COMPLETED]

23

Finn hated to admit it.

But he wanted to die.

The past three days all he has done was put more and more marks on his arms.

When he ran out of room on his arms he moved to his legs.

He wanted to die.

He wanted to die.

So bad.

There wasn't a point in living.

Where is the point in living?

He begged for a point to live.

He looked for a point to live.

Sadly,
There wasn't one.

He couldn't feel anything.

It was crazy to think he was in a hospital, hurting himself everyday. You'd think a doctor would notice or something. Finn was carful to hide every cut with clothes.

No one noticed.

No one knew.

Finn knew.

He hated himself.

His fault.

His fault.

His fault.

Useless.

Useless.

A few ways to describe Finn Wolfhard.