Mike sat in class waiting for the last bell to ring, he needed to leave asap. He was worried about derek, the boy never text him back since last friday and today was the next friday so that's been a week. He even called derek's mom who had told him that derek wasn't feeling well but when he checked instagram and seen that Derek had posted he figured the boy was feeling better. then just at lunch he had asked the boys if they had seen him or spoken to Derek lately but they all shook their head no, he had gotten a notification from one of his supporters that he talked to often. she had sent him multiple messages asking if derek was ok because of what he posted on his spam. being the worrisome best friend that mike is went to check derek's spam and saw his recent post was a black screen and the caption was, "im tired of being tired."
so now like i said before, Mike sat in his last class of the day shaking his leg like crazy just anxious to see his best friend, he just wanted to make sure the boy was ok.
Because Mike had a bad feeling that Derek needed him.
Derek sat in his room, his LED lights were turned blue and his blinds and curtains were closed so no bright lights were showing in his room. For the past few days he felt like his whole world was crashing down on him and didn't know why. He hated how he was finally enjoying his life, depression free and then wakes up one day and have it all come crashing down on him.
He had promised his friends and family that he wouldn't self harm or turn to drugs but he couldn't help it he wanted to escape. So he cut....everyday he made four new cuts and it felt amazing to him. The feeling of cutting was his way of dealing with whatever problems that weighed down on him. When cutting it felt like each problem was being solved or it was slipping away but as soon as he cleaned them and wrapped them up the pain would return just ten times harder.
Closing his eyes derek pulls his hoodie strings downward letting his hoodie close around his head and covering his face partly. groaning the boy got out of bed and went to his bathroom closing the door behind him. leaning down he grabs a small container that held a pocket knife. taking the knife out he took the hoodie off and sat on the toilet seat.
He didn't have a multiple personality disorder, their were no voices in his head to encourage him to do this it was just him. It was just him pushing hid life to the edge day by day. Each cut he made symbolized every time he had failed at something, everytime he lost someone, everytime he upset someone, everytime he would unintentionally hurt someone else, he didn't even know if he ever hurt anyone but he didnt care he just needed another reason to cut himself.
The tears still hadn't come, he was tired or waiting for them to start so he stood back up standing in front of his mirror and tore his self esteem down piece by piece making himself feel so disgusted. He noticed how his skin clung to his ribcage and you could see it very clearly. He had stopped eating weeks ago only eating when asked to. Up until friday when he locked himself away did he really began starving himself. Even then though his mo would come in and give him food and Derek didn't want to worry her again with his depression so instead he ate the food knowing she wasn't going to leave him until he did but as soon as shed leave hed go to his bathroom and force himself to throw it all up.
Anger had suddenly coursed through his veins and he had punched the glass mirror shattering it all over the floor. his hands bled horribly but he didnt care he just turned around and punched the wall repeatedly until he felt the burning sensation of his knuckles become unbearable but he liked it honestly.
