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Moody One Shot? ( TRIGGER WARNING TW TW TW TW TW TW)
4 months ago · · story,
Okay, so I received some consoling help tonight because I was REALLY going through it. They said instead of journaling how I felt, to write a story about how I felt. MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING OF SELF HARM. Like it's not a positive story at all. Please read at your own risk. Please do not take this warning lightly, PLEASE read at your own risk.
You zone back in. Your eyes refocusing after getting so lost in thought. You go back to your art. You’ve been drawing it for hours, your eyes were probably just tired, right?
You deserve it.
You freeze for a moment. That voice is back again. That familiar voice that comes from the depths of your own mind but you swear it isn’t you.
You know you want to.
The voice said, sweet like honey. You swear you’ve never met them before, but their voice is so familiar to you, it’s like you’ve known them for years. You shake it off, hoping you could shake the voice out of your head and continue on your art, something that makes you happy… at least it used to.
Aren’t you listening?
You wanted to say no you weren’t, but that would’ve been a lie, and you hate liars. You put your pen down and stare at your wall. A spot you’ve looked at so many times, you’ve memorized every crack and speck of dust on that one spot. It all starts to blur as your eyes lose focus again.
Do I have your attention now?
You wish this voice would go away. Sometimes it does, and sometimes it overstays its welcome. You’ve always been able to ignore this voice in the past, no matter how long it stayed, it always went away. But each time it came back, it seemed more and more enticing every time. Each time it came back you’ve looked at your xacto knife longer than you normally would. You’ve looked at that orange bottle filled with those happy little pills like it was water, and you haven’t had a drop of it in a month. It had you thinking about picking your skin off, little by little, wanting new skin. Why did it have to be this skin? Why can’t I get new, prettier skin? You find yourself asking.
Come on, you know you want to,
The voice won’t stop. Your ears begin ringing, your throat and chest tightens. You’re finding it harder and harder to breathe even though it’s the same oxygen you’ve been breathing your whole life, it feels like a foreign object in your lungs, it’s not supposed to be there. Your eyes refocus again, this time dropping straight to your xacto knife like they already knew what you were supposed to do. You reach out for it, pick it up. You spin the handle in between your thumb and index finger, watching the blade blur from the motion. Adrenaline rushes over you. You know you shouldn’t do this, but your body is screaming at you, it craves it. Your body, no, your skin is tingling, like it’s an addict and it sees its fix right before it. Each nerve is telling you that they hate your skin as much as you do, so why not try to change it. Right?
You. Deserve. This.
The voice says a bit harsher this time. It sounds mean, but it’s velvety soft voice could never be mean to you. It’s always been there for you in the darkest times of your life, the darkest hours of the night, that voice was always there to greet you without fail. That voice would never leave you, no matter how much you wanted it to. It was sort of ironic though, everything you’ve wanted to stay in life has left you like it was nothing. Like you were nothing. But this voice? This voice that you so desperately wanted to leave you alone? It would never leave you. You’re still swirling that xacto knife in your fingers. That little blade can offer so much relief, it’s amazing how the tiniest things can bring the most joy to you these days. You pull your shorts up, you stare at the bare skin.
Yes, that’s my good girl.
The voice says, it continues to whisper sweet nothings to you. You bring the blade to your bare thigh and your skin tingles, feeling the sharpness of the blade touching it. The tingles send a shiver up your spine, it’s like two lovers who have spent months apart, finally get to be together again. You take a deep breath, you freeze. You stare at your hand as if it wasn’t your own. Why is that there? That shouldn’t be there. Right?
The voice pleads and begs. You didn’t want to disappoint this familiar stranger, whispering to you so sweetly, so kindly, something you don’t hear often. You’ve been such a disappointment to everyone else in your life, why would you want to disappoint someone else? You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You feel the blade glide across your leg like an ice skate on fresh ice. The tingles get stronger. You look down and you see that sweet red liquid come up to the surface, that sweet elixir that you crave. You crave it, because the sweet elixir means you get new skin. You might get that new skin you’ve always wanted. Right?
Yes. Keep going. For me?
The voice pleads to you more. You can’t let it down. It’s been here for you through all this time, always coming back to you, unlike anyone else in your life. You must give it what it wants. You bring the blade back up, moving right next to the first slice, and glide again, like it was soft as butter. You bring it back up, and slice again. And again. And again. And again. Again. Again. Again. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN.
You are such a good little girl, yes, that’s right.
The voice is so pleased. So pleased that you are slicing up that dirty, rotten old skin to be replaced with new skin. The red elixir keeps coming out. You watch it pool up and spill over. You watch it run down your thigh like it’s the most breathtaking river you have ever seen. Your whole body tingles at this point. Sending sweet vibrations to your brain. You keep going, and going, and going. Your breathing is shaky, you’re reaching this climax at the thought of your new skin. Out with the old, in with the new.
You’re doing such a good job for me.
The voice praises. It praises you so much, something you haven’t received in so long. Praise. You almost forgot what it feels like. You take a deep breath, and close your eyes. You feel every sting and tingle this blade has offered you. You relish in each signal your nerves are sending through your body. You open your eyes and look down again and you freeze. What have you done? Your heart begins to pound. Your breathing picks up. You feel your chest moving up and down. Panic replaces that sweet feeling you had only seconds ago.
What are you doing? I didn’t say stop.
The voice said sternly. But you couldn’t hear it. Your eyes are locked at the amount of elixir pouring out of your leg. Your hand, covered in it. Your ears, ringing. You stare at the elixir until it goes blurry, not from your eyes unfocusing, oh no. From the tears pooling up in those pretty, sad little eyes of yours. The tears build up, forming a blurry wall in front of your pupils, until it becomes too much. There’s no more room in your eyes, the tears roll over your eyelid, forming a new, less beautiful river. Your heart aches now. What have you done?
Please. Please be a good girl. I wasn’t done yet.
But you were. You have regrounded from that high the voice offered you. You take a deep breath and get up. You rush to the bathroom to clean yourself up and stare at yourself in the mirror. Who was this person staring back at you? What have you become? You clean the wound, put silly little bandaids all over your thigh as if that could undo what you had just done. You slide to the ground, crying. You haven’t even realized how far you have gone. How far your mind had gone from what it used to be. Each time that voice comes to you, it feels like it’s done the most damage it could do to you. But each time without fail, it does more damage to you. It hurts you over, and over, and over again. You always swear you were done. You would never listen to that voice again. That voice wasn’t you. It couldn’t be you. Right?
Until next time, my dear. Until next time.