TW: panic attack, s/lf-h/rm (hair pulling, c/tting)
🖤Chapter 1: Routine-
Anxiety goes through his frequent routine.
Third Person POV:
"Help me," Virgil choked out. Why was he like this? What did he do to deserve this? He sat there, crouched on the floor in the middle of the night. His breath was uneven, his whole body shaking. He stuffed his head in his knees, trying hard not to tremble. Virgil gasped in large breaths, trying to breathe. It hurt. It hurt so much. His trembling hands found the way to his purple hair, pulling on it. But that didn't help as much. His wrist felt... itchy. There was no word to actually describe the feeling in his wrists. The side knew what to do.
It was the only way.
The pale personality shakily stood up, stumbling and limping to the bathroom that was connected to his room. He shut the door behind him quietly, knowing the other sides were asleep. He curled in on himself once again on the floor, leaning against the door. His shivering hand pulled open a drawer and fumbled around in need of a certain item.
This was a normal routine for Virgil Sanders.
~Timeskip: The next morning~
Virgil/Anxiety's POV:
I woke up in the middle of the bathroom... Wait- Why was I in the bathroom?
Oh... that's why... I looked down at my wrist.
No wonder they felt so sore and... stingy.
I sighed, putting my hand on the floor to stand myself up. I hissed in pain immediately after. I stumbled to the sink, catching myself against it. I carefully pulled down my sleeve. The dried blood had stuck on the black material, I guess I would have to wash it after. Some fresh blood was seeping out from the movement, so I quickly turned the cold water on the sink, putting my wrists under it.
It stung, but I didn't complain. I wiped my arms with a cloth I hid under the cabinet, I only washed it when it was really dirty with dried blood. And that reminded me of cleaning out my hoodie. It was a good thing that all of us sides had copies of our clothing, or else I would be doomed. This routine happened a lot.
-Roman and Logan being mean to me while Patton is disappointed in me
-Run to my room and have a panic attack
-Cry
-Cry
-Pull on my hair
-Pull
-Cut
-Cut
-Cut
-Cut
-Cut...
You get the idea. I normally woke up to dried blood on my sleeves from me previously passing out, so I usually had to wash at least 3 copies of my hoodies a week.
Ye̛͉͙̭͖̪̥̹̗̻̦̱̺̗͢a͙͉̦̹̭̥̲̮̮͍̠ͯ̔̅͐̐ͫͭ̈́̑ͬ̚h̸,͕̜̜̝̯̗͊͆̒̐ͥ̾ ̖͈̱̭͖̝̠͍͢I͙̖͓̠̤̻̝̻͙̱͚̠ͭ̏ͨ̒ͮ̎ͭ̈́ͬͮ̀̑ d̵̛͝ĩ̈́̍ͮ͛̈́̋̑̈́̇͂̽̈́҉̹̜̫͖̟̫̘̹̫̙̱̹͙d̵ͧ̈̒ͯ̅̊̑͂̀͗ͣ͆̏ t̸̨̨hi̺̩̥̍͋̐s̨͓͔͉̀̅ͯ ̈̂̈̀ͣͣͣ̒ͨa̗̳͎͈͒ͤ̓̾ l͠o̥̻̰̹̼̬̻̾̈́͑̂̔ͣ̽t̪̮̱̠̯͇̹͗̍ͬ̐ͭ̏̑.̣̲͉ͭͮͦ͘
No shit.
S̬̠̺̤͔͈͕̹̱̲̮͕h͛̆ͫͫ̓ͧ̔͗̅̈́͂̋̆̿u̮͕͙t͓̬͕̻͔͎̯̩̣̩̗̜͇ͭͭ͂͗̊ͭͦͭ̂̑́̍̚ u͟͝p͛ͪ͌̊ͪ́ͣ̄̊̚҉̱͇̹̪̰̰̞̠̪̦.̩̹͎͖̩͕̼̫̖̮̂ͭͨ̔͋ͪ͛̏͛͑
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Black to Purple, Purple to Magenta | A Prinxiety Sanders Sides Fanfiction
Fanfiction(ON HOLD) Virgil, Anxiety; The bad guy. No one cared, no one loved him, his mind told him. They didn't need him, They didn't want him. What can they do to get rid of him? But they did, They cared, They loved him, They needed him, They wanted him, ...
