It was easy for him. The only way to make it stop, right?
Slinking into the bathroom, door locked. Not that anyone would barge in, but it gave him enough resistance to anyone trying to get in to keep them out long enough for him to get it over with. Nevermind him. He wouldn't be here much longer. He was going to leave this house, even if he had nowhere else to go. He'd find somewhere, do anything to get some place to live. It just had to be away from here. Away from the fighting, the screaming, the physical hurt.
Turning to the bathtub, he put the stopper in the drain, turning the water partially onto the hot side. After a moment of debating, he turned it the rest of the way, watching the water & steam rise in the tub. Twisting back to the sink, he stared at himself in the mirror for a few moments: pale, useless, dieing on the inside. Noone else could see the last thing, though they all knew the first two. Perhaps noone had cared enough to notice the latter.. There were dark purple circles under his eyes, his cheeckbones were very sharp from lack of food. Fingers moved to pick up the smallest knife he had been able to find in the kitchen. The long sleeved shirt came off next, pooling next to his feet on the bathroom tile. Continuing to study himself in the mirror, he allowed his eyes to wander over his ribs--every one was countable, with skin tight against it as if they were on display. His hip bones were as equally sharp as his cheeckbones.
Slinking back to the tub, he eased himself down into the scalding water, whimpering once. It didn't matter that it made his flesh burn. It would only hurt for a while, he'd be out of it soon enough for it to only leave a few welts. They'd be gone by tommorow. Turning the water off with his free hand, he slipped down until his nose & above were the only thing unsubmerged. He wouldn't kill himself today. No, not today. But that was no gaurentee that it wouldn't happen eventually.
Knife point pressing against his thigh, he trailed it back towards himself, releashing in the release of mental pain that followed the trickle of blood spilling into the water. People told him that they didn't know why he cut. They couldn't understand.
When you're bleeding, you're focused on that pain.. It made him forget that his parents hated him, made him forget that he wouldn't amount to what they wanted, made him forget the teasing at school, made him forget the broken heart held tightly in his chest. It made him forget everything but the pain the knife had caused. Everything.
