EriSol Chapter 1
I wince, and clench my fist, as I drag the razor slow and hard over the soft flesh of my inner wrist. Tears sting at my eyes as the razor cuts deep into my skin, and blood wells up on the fresh cut.
"One for nobody loving me." I whisper into the darkened and empty room, my voice choked with pain. I remove the blade and the blood streams from my wrist, as a tear runs down my cheek. I place the razor beside the first cut, and press it against my skin, before pushing down, feeling the bittersweet pain wash away my emotions so temporarily. I drag it across my wrist, as more tears pour from my eyes, and more blood trickles down my wrist.
"Two for never doing anything right." I whisper again, my voice no more than a whimper in my silent room, as I tighten my grip on the blade, my hand shaking slightly.
Once more, I remove the blade and waste no time in slitting my wrist deep and clean again.
"Three for making everyone hate you."
Finally, I remove the blade, now coated with my crimson blood, and I throw it on my desk with a light clatter. I'll clean it later,I think to myself, as I lie back in my bed against the pile of violet pillows near my headboard, too drained to want to get up. I sit there for a few minutes, letting the stinging pain of the cuts drown away my inner emotional pain, replacing it with the numbness I was addicted to, and my sobs quiet a little, and I take a deep, shaky breath.
I look down at my bleeding wrist, marveling how pitying this sight was. The lonely and emotionally unstable hipster-dressing-rude-snobby-freak sitting here cutting himself to rid himself of his pain. Seemed kind of ass backwards. Bringing more pain to get rid of pain. But only those that do it would understand. Would understand that you'd do anything to get those few sweet moments of numbness.
I had tried to end it all three times total, but had failed miserably and only resulted in being caught and scarred more. You'd think I would at least try a different method after all those failures, but I'm too stupid for that. Not that anybody cared. Not even my parents, who knew about it. They weren't even home. They never were. Always away on "business trips" in the Bahamas or Hawaii or even Germany and more places in Europe. They just up and leave when I'm not even home, leaving me to return home to a quiet and desolate home, a note on the kitchen island, telling me what marvelous place they've left to, leaving myself to my own torturous mind and loneliness.
I wipe away my tears, as a sob escapes my lips.
'Don't cry you pitiful fool. It's so wweak of you.' My head whispers to me, and I bury my head in my bed, covering my ears with my shaking hands, as my body is wracked with sobs.
"Shut up." I mutter quietly into my bed, my voice quivering with my sobs, and I can already feel the explosive rage building inside me from the voices hurtful words. Oh no, oh no oh no oh no, not this again, I thought I'd gotten ovver this! I say to myself, and I hug my arms against me.
'You think you'd gotten ovver this?! Wwoww, you are one naïvve motherfucker. And you havve some nervve tellin' me to shut up. But wwouldn't you lovve that? After all, that's wwhat you do all of this for, right? You make it seem like I'm the bad guy, wwhen really, wwe're the same person dumbass. So wwhy don't YOU just shut up then?' The voice whispers, its voice tinged with amusement. The rage I knew I couldn't bury boils and boils, and I start shaking Fuck, not this again! I feel it reach the limit, when all hell breaks loose, and I bolt up from my bed, collapsing to my knees on the floor, tilting my head to the sky, my body tense and shaking with rage.
"I SAID SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UUUUUUUUP!" I bellow at the sky, screaming so hard my throat burns, before I collapse to the ground hugging myself and crying hard, tears dripping steadily from my chin.
'You knoww I nevver wwill…" The voice hisses, fading slowly before disappearing, leaving my mind silent except for my rushing blood in my ears and my relentless crying. Eventually, after what seems like hours, my sobs dwindle to mere whimpers, and I slowly pick myself up off of the floor, shaking and trembling like crazy, and I stumble to the bathroom.
I flip on the light, and I stare into the eyes of the familiar stranger in the mirror. There's a bit of blood smearing my face from grabbing my head, and I turn the water on, rinsing my wrist, the blood spiraling down the sink with the cool water. The cold water soothes the cuts, and I pull out the gauze I use to cover them until they stop bleeding. I dry my arm off gingerly, before wrapping my arm and securing the bandages. Careful not to wet the bandages, I reach my hands into the stream of water, before bringing the cupped water to my face, rubbing my face roughly. I shut off the water, and look at myself, the water dripping off my face.
I sigh and run a hand through my messily spiked black hair, with the streak of violet, and I look into my deep violet eyes. They're ringed with dark circles, and the bags under my eyes are worse than usual. There's hollowness to my eyes, the color so much more dull than they used to be. My face is pale, and drawn in a bit, my cheekbones more prominent than they should be, my whole face looking far too tired and weak than it should. My eyes trail down to my neck, and a lump forms in my throat at the three pale scars marring my porcelain skin.
It should have worked. I should be dead, but instead I have to sit here and face life still, and have to put up with the torment of my own mind. I blink away tears, clenching my fists in defiance against my own pitying sadness.
I dry my face, and comb my hair, making it look more presentable. I step out of the bathroom, glancing at the clock on my nightstand. 6:00 AM. If I had gotten the right amount of sleep, I should have just been waking up. But instead, I was up at 2:00 AM from the horrifying night terrors I faced each night, my own mind catching me at my most vulnerable.
I dressed in a violet long sleeved shirt and blue skinny jeans, before pulling on my black converses and my black pea coat. What could I say; I was what people would call a "hipster". I push up the collar, before grabbing my black and blue striped scarf and wrapping it around my neck, covering the scars. I slip on my glasses, and grab my backpack from beside my bed, before trudging downstairs to the kitchen and grabbing a soda and a Costco muffin. I head out the door, locking it behind me, and walk to the street corner to wait for the bus. I have a car, but I hardly ever use the silver Ferrari, knowing it would just add to the name calling if the kids at school realized just how rich my family was.
I glance at my phone, and realize I have 10 minutes to myself before the bus is supposed to be here. I finish my muffin quickly, and I stand in the brisk, chilly winter air, and I close my eyes, taking a deep shaky breath to calm my nerves.
I was still shaking immensely, and my eyes were still red from crying. I chug the soda, throwing the empty can in my backpack to throw away later, and I wait in the cold, my breath forming clouds in the air, my hands in my coat pockets, when my phone chimes. I look down, pulling it out of my pocket, before flipping it open.
carcinoGeneticist(CG) began trolling caligulasAquarium(CA)
CG: DUDE, ERIDAN, ARE YOU OKAY? AT LIKE 5:00 IN THE FUCKING MORNING I THOUGHT I HEARD SOMEONE SCREAMING BLOODY-FUCKING MURDER FROM YOUR HOUSE. IT WOKE ME UP YOU ASSWIPING PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT.
I laugh at Karkat's attempts at sounding rude and violent, but I can tell he actually cares. His insults aren't that good today.
CA: wwhats it to you. I wwas just wwatchin a scary movvie and it wwas a bit too loud. sorry for interruptin your beauty sleep princess fucktard.
CG: YOU SURE? YOU BETTER NOT BE PULLING MY FUCKING LEG OR ILL RIP BOTH OF YOUR SKINNY JEAN CLOTHED LEGS RIGHT OFF WITH A RUSTY PAIR OF SCISSORS. AND YOU BETTER FUCKING BELIEVE I'M A MOTHERFUCKING PRINCESS. JUST LIKE YOU'RE THE PRINCE OF ROYALLYSNOBBYDOUCHEBAGLAND.
I sigh in exhaustion, and I don't feel like talking this out with Karkat. Nobody even knows I self-harm to begin with, so why should I change that now?
CA: for fucks sake, wwill you just calm dowwn. it wwas just a movvie. really. noww can you please just leavve me alone?
CG: WHY SHOULD I? MAYBE I'M JUST FUCKING WORRIED ABOUT YOU. BUT NO, MISTER DOUCHE HAS TO JUST PUSH PEOPLE THAT CARE AWAY. I SWEAR YOU DO THAT EVERY FUCKING TIME I ASK IF YOU'RE OKAY. SO I'LL LEAVE YOU TO YOUR FUCKING SELF. AND I WAS ABOUT TO OFFER YOU A RIDE TO SCHOOL.
carcinoGeneticist(CG) ceased trolling caligulasAquarium(CA)
I sigh as I run my hands through my hair, closing my eyes and flipping my phone shut. At least I got him off of my case. Anything to prevent people from finding out, I guess.
Suddenly, the bus pulls up to my stop, and I reluctantly step aboard, choosing a seat in the middle, sliding in to the seat before staring out the window with boredom. My wrist stung still, and I pull my sleeve down subconsciously to cover the wrappings. I close my eyes and press my head against the cold window, the rumble of the bus mixed with whatever horrible music they were playing on the radio was enough to drown out any troubling thoughts starting to rise from the dark place in my mind I shove them down to when I'm in public. I sit in silence until the bus stops again, and feet enters the bus, before a body tosses themselves into the seat in front of me, and a head pokes over the back of the seat.
"Hi Eridan!" My friend Feferi says to me, grinning adorably, and her dark brown hair falling in perfect waves around her shoulders. She was wearing a winter coat the same shade of fuchsia as her eyes, with fur on the hood, but that was all I could see. I look up into her magenta colored eyes, and I feel a blush creep across my cheeks, and I look down to avoid her gaze.
"Hey Fef." I mutter, and she tilts her head to the side, her smile faltering a bit.
"What's wrong? You're always kind of grumpy, but I've never seen you look so...depressed. Is something bothering you?" she asks me, her voice turning soft, and I slouch in my seat even more.
"It's nothin'. Just tired..." I mumble, and she pouts her glossy pink lips a little, flipping her hair over her shoulder softly, and I catch a whiff of her raspberry body spray.
"Eridan, I know when something is wrong, I've known you since 4th grade." She says, her voice motherly and stern. And it's true. We were seniors this year and had been friends since 4th grade when I did a presentation on cuttlefish, and she flipped out afterwards about her love for marine life.
"Nah, it's nothin' I promise, okay?" I reassure, smirking a little, and she sighs, looking at me with a look that screams I'm not going to bug you about it but I'm onto your little acting there, buddy.
"Alright, alright, I'll take your word for it. Just know I'm here to talk, okay? Because I glub you." She smiles, and I laugh a little at the sea pun inside joke we shared.
Before long, we're pulling up to the school, and as soon as the doors open, she's out the door, running to catch up with her friends from school, and I sigh, pulling my backpack on, before stepping off into the cold air. I instantly put on my best I'm-fucking-royalty act, and I begin the trek to the doors, trying to hold my head up high.
This was how every day went by. People talking trash about me, and me acting like I was too above them to give a fuck, when really, every word they said brought me lower and lower, to where I always wanted to crawl into a hole and die. I could see their looks of hatred, and I could hear their mumblings of annoyance. Nobody likes me except Feferi, but she has always seems like she pities me more than likes me underneath her kindness and bubbliness, and I hate it. I always wished desperately I could have people like me, but I'm afraid to grow attached. Afraid I will just disappoint them, or they'll leave me because of my issues. I like Feferi more than a friend, but I know there's no chance she'd ever want to be with a brat like me. She had more popular friends and could easily get any boy in the school if she wanted. No matter how much it pained me, I just had to keep my act up at school.
I walk through the doors, and with one look at me, I hear exasperated sighs and snickering, as the sea of high school cliques parts before me. Looking at the seemingly never-ending numbers of students, I'm reminded again of how insignificant I am. I push that thought back into the deep recesses of my mind for now, trudging through the building to my first class.
I enter the room for my first period, BC Calculus, and take a seat in the back of the room, before dropping my head onto my crossed arms on the desk, letting out a shaky sigh. I soon regain my composure, leaning back in my seat, crossing my legs and folding my arms to my chest. I put on my most smug expression, acting as if I had so many more important places to be, tapping my fingers against my arm impatiently, waiting for class to begin. The teacher walks in, attendance is taken, and as the period passes, I take all the required notes, and finish all of the work assigned. Suddenly, with only 15 minutes left of class, the door opens loudly, and a slightly flustered but composed looking boy walks in, handing the teacher a note, smiling crookedly.
"Thorry I'm late, doctor'th appointment." He says, and I chuckle a little at his strong lisp. He hears it all the way from the front of the room, and he glares at me. He's wearing some type of 3-D glasses, and they hide his eyes from me, but I can tell that what I said obviously hit a soft spot, and my smirk falls, before he slowly turns away, as I stare in shock, thinking that I probably shouldn't have said anything. He's a bit lanky, but I can tell that beneath his plain black tee and straight-legged faded jeans, he probably has a nice body, and I blink a little at how strange that thought was.
The teacher glances at the note the new kid handed him and nods, turning to the rest of the class.
"Class, this is our new student, Sollux Captor. He was just transferred from a private school in Florida and will be spending the remainder of the year with us. Be kind and show him around when necessary. Now, who can tell me the answer to the question on page 45?" The teacher immediately begins, turning to the textbook on his desk. He picks up an Expo marker on his desk and turns to the whiteboard, scribbling the equation on the board, as Sollux makes his way to a desk a row in front of me, avoiding eye contact with anybody in the class. The teacher's marker squeaks a little on the board, and I adjust my glasses, nodding a little at the equation.
dx/dt = sin(3t)cos(-t)
dy/dt = cos^cos(t) - (e^t)
I hear some kids groaning in exhaustion, and some sigh in defeat, while I listen closely for the question.
"Now the question is, 'Find the speed of the particle at t = 1. Can anybody figure it out?" the teacher says, raising his eyebrows at the class. I start figuring it out, and I'm raising my hand to answer, but a laugh from the new kid makes me hesitate. Sitting back casually at his desk, the new student smiles crookedly, adjusting his bi-colored glasses, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, and I can just see his mind moving at the speed of light, working the problem out in his head. My mouth opens a little in shock when I see the light-bulb go off in mere seconds, and he smirks slightly, brushing his dark brown choppy bangs out of his face.
"Easy. If v is the particles speed at t=1, then the answer is v=0.1412." he replies nonchalantly, and my eyes open wide in shock. I look down at the work on my paper, and sure enough, v=0.1412 is circled in my purple pen ink. The teacher smiles and looks impressed.
"Wow. Very good Sollux. This is literally the first 10 minutes you've been in this class and you're already doing marvelously. I'm impressed." The teacher laughs, and I feel my face grow hot with anger as the class turns to look at me. The teacher never says anything like that to me! And I was his best student! I clench my teeth and glare at the new student, and I can feel emotions bubbling up within me. After a short lesson on why the answer was correct, the bell rings, and the new kid looks at me, snickering to himself. A kid on his way out bumps me, and I stumble to the side, hitting a desk. I turn angrily to the student, but he just laughs and sneers at me.
"Looks like the prince is all hot and bothered that he's no longer the best." He jeers, and the class laughs. I feel my face grow hotter, and I look at the new kid again, but he just smiles wider and turns away, shaking his head. Suddenly, within the first 15 minutes of ever even seeing his face, I already know something deep in my heart.
I hate Sollux Captor.