AN: As ever, the characters aren't mine. Prompt 26 - "tears".
The shining silver, razor sharp blade hovers in the air for a moment, before pressing down and drawing a line in the pale skin, skin that used to be tanned, before this habit meant it had to be kept hidden. Scars criss-cross the skin, some old and completely healed, others still raw, some new and still scabbed over. The blade parts the skin easily, too easily, a line of red, blood, following its path. It takes a moment before it starts to flow down over the other scars, running down like the tears down his face. He doesn't notice the physical pain; he's crying because the emotions are too much for him to bear. This is like a release, a pressure valve, a way of coping with it all.
His friends don't know, and they'd be horrified if they did. Oh, they'd be supportive and all that, but deep down it would be horror and disgust they felt. They wouldn't understand, not really.
Slowly, he cleans away the blood, winds a bandage around his arm and wipes away the tears. Tugging his sleeve back down, he glances at himself in the mirror. His reflection stares back. Something isn't quite right. He forces his customary smile back onto his face. much better. Sora looks like he's ready to face the world again.
AN: Posting this isn't something I'm taking lightly. You may ask why I've chosen Sora - well, it's because he reminds me of me. Does everything that's asked of him, tries to keep cheerful, holds everything and everyone around him together when life is falling apart. At some point, it gets too much. It did for me. For three years, writing was my release, my pressure valve. Then, one day a couple of weeks ago, it just wasn't enough. The first scratch was accidental, from the cat's claws. It was then that I realised the pain actually made me feel better, and I made some more scratches. I was about thirty seconds away from putting a scalpel blade to my arm when I received a message from one of my friends, which made me pause, made me realise what I was about to do. Since then, life has taken an upward turn, for which I'm exceedingly grateful. Unlike Sora in this story, my friends do know, they are supportive and they're not horrified by what I almost did. My family doesn't know, and I dread to think what would happen if they found out.