WARNING: this story focuses on the self harm of a minor.
Feeling
Jimmy picked up the knife he had smuggled from the kitchen. He had deliberately chosen one from the box at the back of the tins' shelf, the box that had belonged to his mom, so that no-one would even notice it was gone. Just like no-one but him seemed to even notice his mom was gone.
Jimmy felt like his mom had taken part of his soul with her when she left. He was 9 years old; he was a big boy. Big boys don't cry, he knew that; his dad had taught him that. Big boys weren't supposed to show emotions, but surely they were supposed to feel them, weren't they? He didn't feel anything anymore. It was like he was dead inside and that scared him, well it would have, if he could have brought himself to feel fear. He ran his finger lightly along the blade of the knife, it was sharp. Jimmy thought that had to be a good thing.
Now all he had to do was work out where he cut that no-one else would see. He couldn't do his arms or torso, they would be noticed during training. Lower legs were out too. That just left the tops of his thighs. Pressing the knife against his thigh, Jimmy dragged it slowly across his leg. As he watched the blood flow past the knife, he frowned at the complete lack of pain. He still couldn't feel anything. There was nothing! Angrily, he slashed the top of his other thigh in one fast movement.
Tears flowing unchecked down his cheeks, Jimmy began to desperately claw at his thighs with his fingernails. He so desperately wanted to feel again. The skin ripped and tore, more blood came to the surface, but still he felt nothing.
Blair jerked awake, instantly sure that something was wrong. A glance at his bedmate showed him what. Jim was shaking, scratching viciously at his thighs and had tear tracks marking his face, which was twisted into a mask of pain and desperation. Without wasting a second, Blair wrapped himself around Jim. He pulled his partner closer until Jim's back was against his chest and captured the scratching hands in his own, stilling them. Whispering words of comfort and love he coaxed his still sleeping partner into a better sleep.
An unknown amount of time passed before Jimmy noticed that he was no longer scratching his legs. A moment more passed until he realised that he could feel the warmth of someone else holding him. Twisting himself slightly in their grasp, he buried himself closer to their warmth, hiding his face on their shoulder, and sobbed as he felt the warmth take over the cold, dark places inside him, filling them. When he was all cried out, he looked up at Sally's caring eyes and asked her desperately why no-one else had noticed that mom was gone. He begged her to tell him what he had done to make his mom leave him and he listened as she told him it wasn't his fault. She held him tight and apologised that everyone had been so lost in their own grief that they hadn't noticed how deep his ran.
Jimmy had fallen asleep in Sally's arms that day and now, as Jim woke up from dreaming about it yet again, he smiled at how close to Blair's chest he was being held. He relaxed as he felt the dark, empty places inside, the ones that always followed him back from this dream, fill to bursting level, and fell once more to sleep - a happy, peaceful sleep, full of love and hope.
