Title: In Addition to St. Vin's: Specs' Story written by Polecat

Disclaimer: I own Specs, true or false? False. He belongs to Disney, true or false? True. I only have the right to take him and out and play, true or false? False, but I do it anyway, mwahahaha!

*1*

*Well, would you carry a razor? In case, just in case of depression?

Actually, yes I would. Little nicks here, a small cut there, too deep, a long gash now.
Mom's mad at me for not having the car home on time, another mark to add to the rest.
Sister's upset she caught me kissing her boyfriend, put another red mark next to the others.
Yeah, I'm gay, make this one a little bit deeper.

Razor blades hidden away in my sock drawer. A steak knife from the pantry if I can't get up stairs. My sister's scissors if it really comes down to it. Pretty little red marks left across my skin. Pale flesh welting up and stinging. Little dots of blood rising to the surface. I've made this one too deep, but now I feel better.

*I hurt myself today. To see if I still feel.

It sounds ridiculous, but I have. Some mornings I wake up and I feel like I'm not even there. Where am I today? Where have I gone? Did my spirit leave me during the night? Am I just an empty, walking shell? A long cut down my arm, a red welt trail left behind. Blood rises to the surface, it hurts, I feel.

Dad's pressuring me to take Tabby Moreaux out on Saturday, I'll add another mark right here.
Teachers loading me down with a weeks worth of assignments, they want them in by Monday, just a tiny mark I'll put there.
Logan Scott has me cornered in the boys bathroom, I'm accused of sleeping with his girlfriend, my nose bleeds more than this mark I just left.
They're not ugly, I think they're pretty. My own pretty little designs. And I feel better now.

In my bathroom, I snuck up here with Mom's Ginsu knife.
Failed two tests today, Dad's gonna ride my ass.
Scratched the car pulling into the garage, Mom's gonna bitch me out.
Kissed Taylor again, sis is gonna tell Mom and Dad.

Just a small mark this time, nothing too big. No, that one went too deep.

"Billy!"

Why didn't I hear her coming up the stairs?

"Mom! Dad! Billy's bleeding, he cut himself!"

Jesus, Jenny, shut the hell up.

"Bill..."

And crash, she knocks my glasses off the sink and to the floor. Glass shatters, shattered spectacles on the floor. Broken specs. Broken me.

Mom looks terrified, "Not again."

Dad looks pissed, "Again?".

This'll land me in one place and I know that. Hello Saint Vincent's, here I come.
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*Words belong to David Bowie

Yeh, so, do we like?

I'd like to thank the rockin' lyrics of Mr. Bowie for inspiring me so. And thanks to KB, my pyromaniac angst muse.