Miles held in a shuddering breath, fearful of being discovered and beaten worse than he already was. He was hiding in his bathroom in the von Karma manor, holding the glistening red razor blade in his hand, holding it tightly like it was the only life line he had left tethering him to the world. He knew he shouldn't be doing it, never should have done it, but it was too late. He was hooked to the feeling of release and the control he had over this, had control over if he bleeds or not, and it felt wonderful. He knew it wasn't healthy, or safe, or even smart, but it was a need. He watched the cuts drip the crimson fluid with distant eyes, thinking on how his life went downhill so fast. He was only in his senior year, too young to die, but feeling too old to continue on.
He was afraid every day. Afraid of the man he was adopted by, afraid of being nothing less than perfect, afraid that one day the beatings would go too far, afraid that his sister in all but blood may one day be beaten herself. He was only proud of the one thing he could do successfully, take her punishment onto himself. His mind finally brought him back to the reason he was here in the bathroom, doing this in the first place. He failed a test, nothing big in most parents' minds, but in Manfred von Karma's mind, it was the worst thing that Miles could have done. So, as he waited for his adopted father to come home and deal out the punishment, he took his chance to give himself control of his life for the moment. Miles gritted his teeth together and pulled the blade across his arm again, and watched the blood dribble out of the fresh cut that crisscrossed over all his scars, from both his father's and his own doing
In his mind, he ignored the sound of footsteps approaching in the hall. He also didn't think about that his sister was home around now and always came to say hello in her own snarky way. He had completely lost track of his time, and was lost to the thoughts in his head. He was all but dead to the world.
"Miles! I'm home!" called Franziska. She was happy to leave those fools she called classmates back in her 6th grade class. No one understood her mind, not like Miles did. He always encouraged her and helped her out if she couldn't find a way to write something that established emotions (which she was never good at, but will never admit). She felt a twinge of concern when he didn't answer her in a greeting of some kind. It was a sort of game they had, and she would win if he repeated the same greeting to her. She decided to go to his bedroom, knowing he hides there after school, and he may have lost track of time, or so he told her whenever he forgot about their game.
She entered his bedroom, but saw no sign he was there, except for his school bag, which sat upon his neatly made bed. She was about to leave, until she noticed the bathroom light was on. She went to the door and was about to knock, until the smell hit her. Now, Franziska had always had keen senses, far above any child's normal standard, and she was no stranger to the smell of blood, but this smelled so fresh it was overpowering. Frantically, thinking Miles had gotten hurt at school, she quickly turned the knob and calling out her brothers name, was surprised to find the door unlocked.
"Miles are you-" she was horrified to find him the way he was. His hand was poised to strike his wrist again and the fresh cuts dripped onto the white floor in pink and red splatters. Miles had a deer caught in the headlights look, and the fear was present in his eyes. Franz felt like her world had cracked, and now it was crumbling all around her. She wasn't ignorant, she knew what her father did to Miles, and how he protected her. She hated herself at the moment though. How could she had let this happen! How could she not have protected her brother from her father more! Tears welded up in her eyes as she saw how truly broken her brother was.
"Franz, I can explain," Started Miles, fear in his voice as he looked at her. If Franz' world had felt like it was crumbling, it now felt as if the ground beneath her feet had disappeared and she was falling.
"Miles," she cried, choking up. He froze and stared at her, and she knew he was scared of her rejecting him. "Miles, please don't leave me! I can't handle loosing someone else. Please!" she sobbed, knees hitting the ground.
"I can't lose you! I can't!" Franziska had grabbed Miles at this point. "I already lost Mom! I lost her and I've forgotten what she looked like, what she sounded like, her smile, her smell! I don't want to loose you, or forget you!" Miles looked at her, before pulling her into a hug. She started sobbing harder as she held onto his neck.
"I'm not leaving you Franz, not ever. You won't forget me, you won't ever need to feel like you will. I'm not leaving, I could never leave you alone." whispered Miles into Franziska's ear. She pulled back and sniffled, her red eyes and tear stained face watching him intently.
"You promise?" she whispered, so much like the child everyone forgot she was. Miles heart hurt, feeling terrible for thinking this was such a good idea. He knew it would take a while to get rid of the habit, most addiction are like that, but he would shake it for her.
"I promise." he whispered back.