How Did I Ever Love You?

Chapter 9: Stuck in this

More sensitive subject matter ahead

England's pov

About a week had passed since... THAT day... and at least that cut had healed up, if that's good or bad I don't know. A few people noticed me messing with it, but never really questioned it, now that's good. Although I felt like I had to tell at least someone. Tell them that I love the sight of my own blood, but they'll think I'm insane. In school, I was desperate just to feel something, desperate to have a blade in my skin. The wrists always bothered me so I didn't even consider going there! Just my fingers and hands for now...

The want for the taste of blood was so overwhelming that I ended up tearing off a hangnail just so it'll bleed. It wasn't enough, that's why the moment I got home, I got right in the shower and started again. Last time it was an accident that I made into something else, but this time I'll do it right. In the back of my head I knew it was wrong, but I guess it never really registered in my mind.

I swiftly dragged the razor across two of my fingers and held back a scream of agony. Covering my mouth, I looked down and smiled a little at how much they were bleeding. I pinched the skin to make more blood come out and stuck both my fingers in my mouth. I fully knew this was fucked up, but I didn't care, why would I? It tasted so strange, but like a good kind of strange... Then I realized something, even though it hurt, I still didn't shed a single tear, not once. I felt stronger, felt like I could take more pain now, and for the first time in a while...
I felt proud of myself

"You're doing good..."

Three days later

I was just about to walk out the door to go to school when I heard my mom's voice behind me. When I turned around she asked me

"What happened to your fingers?" while taking my hand in her's. I internally panicked, my stomach tightening as I forget what I told myself I'd responded with if this happened. Although I figured it out.

"I accidentally cut myself with a razor..." I said meekly, making sure to really make the accidentally part clear. She looked skeptical, but seemed to believe me, calming a few nerves. That day, I struggled to do anything. Everything I touched sent a wave of pain through me, but luckily, unlike my mom, nobody really cared. Except America asked me what happened when he saw me screwing with them again. I did what I couldn't do with my mom and told him the truth. The tone he responded in was almost... sympathetic?

"Man, don't that..."

"Why not?"

"Because that's bad! Why would you do that to yourself...?" I felt a bit sad, now he's concerned about something he doesn't need to be concerned about.

"Look obviously I'm not an expert on this subject... But if you need to cut something, try like paper or something? Just... don't do it on yourself..." he kinda trailed off at the end, leaving me to stare at the floor as I walked.

"Okay..."

Maybe America was right... maybe this is bad for me. Every time something made me mad, I just wanted to cut again. Although I had nothing, so I just scratched roughly at my arms, didn't calm me at all though. Part of me didn't actually want to hurt myself again, mostly because it can be hard to hide. Whatever, I'll at least wait until these heal over, then I'll see what happens....