Mortimer Smith was sitting on his bed, on his grey taupe blankets sat a razor blade and on Morty's arm was a piece of paper towel he was holding over a cut he had just freshy made. He could remember how it all started, he had found relief in picking and scratching at a wound from one of Rick's adventures. After a talk about self-harm in class he got the idea to make his own cut, which turned into many more. He stole one of Summer's shaving razors one night after everyone had gone to bed and snapped the plastic and with difficulty got the blade free.
He made another cut, it didn't hurt instantly but stung and then it hurt like he had a bruise when touched. He had started wearing long-sleeve yellow shirts or a jacket which went unnoticed to the rest of the family, even Rick. He didn't completely understand why he was doing it, he only knew that he felt like he needed it. It had been almost six weeks since he started now and he had his system figured out. He was still using the same blade which he hid in his bedside table and pressed paper towels on to the wound until the blood stopped. He always waited thirty minutes until after bedtime, but it was always risky given that Rick could come in at any moment wanting to go on an adventure. He decided he needed to stop a few days ago, "This is the last time," he told himself, believing it to be true.