A/N:
I should be asleep now ooops...
TW: Self-harm
~
There once was a boy names Dan.
Dan loved playing with Barbies and dressing in pink.
However, it seemed that everyone around around him despised the facy that he liked pink . For some reason, they acted like Dan should think the same way they did.
But he didn't, and that made his life a lot harder.
~
The boy would cut deep gashes into his thighs.
And he had friends, but they would never notice. He always blamed himself though.
So many times would the boy want to tell them but he couldn't because he was afraid of what they would think.
And so he coninued to do it for almost five years up to the age of 15. It was only because he hated himself.
He wasn't normal, he liked the wrong things. So the boy thought he could stop liking the wrong things by punishing himselfm but you see, it isn't that easy. It's not even possible as far as I know.
The boy wanted...needed help.
Yep he was too scared to ask. And his legs were full so he stated on his wrists.
One day in P.E, everyone saw. They saw but ignored it.
Nobody laughed.
Nobody teased.
Nobody questioned.
Because nobody cared.
But he wanted people to care and this made him feel as if he was seeking attention.
Because he would cut but feel as if it wouldn't matter. The boy needed a shoulder to cry on and he never had one.
Everyday he would go to schooo with his scars on full-show. His friends blaitantly ignored it as much as possible and even the teachers didn't care.
What were he to do?
All the poor boy wanted was help.
And all he could get, was nothing.
So one day, with the boys wrists, arms and everywere else like his stomach used, he took a look in the mirror.
The same thoughts were running through his mind.
You don't matter. Not to anyone or yourself.
You are different. Different is bad.
People aren't even trying to hlp you, that's how useless you are.
Might as well do it, no one will fucking notice.
Maybe this next few ones could change you into becoming normal.
Slash
Slash
Slash
And so, three more gashes were made.
One across Dan's cheek just under his eye, one on his chin and another on his jar all the way up to beneath his eye.
He reminded himself of Mr Crepsley from a Darran Shan book.
Now he looked disgusting, worn worn out and freakish.
He looked on the outside just how he felt on the inside.
(A/N: I'm writing a second part don't worry, im so tired and this is an angsty drabble :/)
