Gamzee Makara sat down in the shadows, gripping something sharp, metallic, and slender; a knife. He stared at it with blank, almost unreadable look with hidden hurt and depression. Ever since the Capricorn had become a rainbow drinker, his life was horrible. He couldn't stop thinking suicide, and was addicted to self-harm; cutting his wrists and other parts of his body. He bit his lower lip, then dragged the razor-sharp knife along his already badly scarred left wrist, the blood quickly flowing from the fresh wounds and down his arm. He held back a cry of pleasured pain; since the cuts hurt, but also felt extraordinarily good to him. He then continued, tearing up his wounded wrists more and more, non-stop, and just hoping that no one would find his 'special' place in the dark.