There was nothing that the green gem was sure of. Not anymore. Not since this began. Nothing was solid. There was no concrete evidence of anything. That had all been taken away from Peridot since the first memory. Everything she was sure of she now questioned. There were no answers.
It was torture. Complete and utter mental torture.
Why did it hurt so much, like a terrible, throbbing headache that wouldn't go away.. It wasn't something physical that could be treated, nor was it some sort of sickness or virus. It was a type of pain that couldn't be fixed simply with medicine or rest. It was all mental.
And it was to much for Peridot. The green gem couldn't deal with the stress this put upon her. It was unbearable, a weight bearing down on her mind with no end.
There had to be something she could do. Some way to end the madness. Peridot had told herself there must be a solution a million times now, but had one appeared? Nothing. Nothing but more terror and agony.
But then the green gem remembered a small box of razors that she had stumbled upon among the cabinets of the Steven's bathroom.
So maybe she could turn that mental pain into something else...
As the days went on Peridot did her best to hide the small slashes on her wrist from the gems and the Steven. The last thing the green gem wanted was for them to know about her 'situation'. She could clearly handle this on her own. She didn't need help from those dirt-bombs. She would be fine on her own. She would get through this.
At least, that's what Peridot kept telling herself. She wanted to believe it, she really did, but the green gem couldn't deny that it hurt. Every part of her, from head to toe, and even it the deepest depths of her mind hurt.
it was like being suffocated. The pressure grew and grew, never giving her a moment's rest. It hurt. It hurt too much. The pain had been unbearable from the beginning, and it only got worse as time went on.
Every day was the same, with little change or alteration. Peridot would try to work, to distract herself, but she was too busy to get anything done. Too busy thinking. Too busy hiding her injuries. It was torturous. Another torturous cycle slowly consuming her.
Every night she'd meet another new, twisted memory. She'd awake, her thoughts consumed by the new horrors she had witnessed. She'd stumble away into the bathroom, and when she returned there would be a new set of thin slashes on her wrists. Every single night it continued, over and over. A cycle of pain, mental and physical, repeating and repeating. It hurt.
And Peridot began to believe she deserved it too. She thought she deserved this pain and suffering. She KNEW she deserved it. She deserved every moment of the aging.
Peridot slowly felt herself losing emotion. She didn't care anymore. She didn't care about anything. She was falling apart, but it didn't even matter.
authors note: sorry for the short chapter :p the next one is going to be SUPER long though!
