There was a lady watching over him at nearly all times now. Just like when his mother's behaviour had spurned for the worst and she started to show disapproving tendencies , just like her after being caught in such questionable intentions , Jellal also now had one of them accompanying him nearly at all times since the incident.
Thankfully though they didn't go to the extent of bounding him anywhere like what had been done with his mother. Neither bounding or drugging him which should have been a relief , but that didn't help the lack of privacy with how one of them just peered at him like some sort of prison guard.
Observing him from a far away corner in the already unspacious room , barely saying any words to him , watching his every move like an eerie hawk. All the while he just sat on the edge of his bed , having been bandaged again the umpteenth time for his incurred injuries , staring into the present darkness where he found himself lost in , both mind and soul.
Glazing dark orbs looked vacantly at the nothingness in front , just as he had been doing for hours on end like before , but the difference was not even a sound came from him. Simply the only animation coming from his rigid being were the tears that silently flowed down his shadowed face , along with the occasional swallow of thickness in his throat.
He had been like that for quite some time now. Hours or even days , he didn't know. Stuck in the confines of his room , unwilling to move anywhere or do anything unless asked , gazing into oblivion as he would be so consumed in a void that truly he couldn't escape since the latest incident.
Nor did he even want to.
Because it was due to this void he was facing , he truly had started to understand what a rock bottom he had hit in terms of his emotions. The amount of clarity and direction he had lost throughout the depths of darkness and depression.
And honestly…
Now that he was realising the extent of damage done to his mind and soul , it was honestly frightening to think back about how he was losing his way so much , that he would do something so rash.
That's probably why one of the stone-faced ladies was also always watching him now. Because they could even see how abnormal he had become in his behaviour. Because they knew that what he was thinking and doing wasn't right. Just like how his mother had done and he stopped her , as he knew what she was doing wasn't in her right mind.
But who would have thought,
That practically in a year's time,
He would attempt the same thing?
That realisation stunned him when he contemplated it. That how he had been so avid in trying to preserve his life and find the good in it , how that all changed and made him so dismissive of something he once held precious. His mind had really changed over the course of the year , but he would have never imagined that he would have been spurned to attempt something as unknown to him as that.
His deep azure bangs hung forward and obscured his features as his vacant gaze fell towards his lap. Returning back to the present , he took a good look at the fresh bandages that covered his palms , staring blankly at the stark whiteness covering him. And thinking about how many times he had seen such fabrics over his body and skin.
The shard that he was going to use to pierce his throat , he had made a rather deep laceration across the spanse of his already injured palms. Another wound added up onto those that were still in the midst of replenishing.
The pain was still present , having gone from a sharp irritation to a dull sear that intensified with what heavy movement he made with his hands , yet that pain seemed tame compared to the one that was deep inside him.
And had been all this time.
A pain so wormed into him , his mind and soul stopped recognising the initial agony , the effects of it seeming so drowned out and muted compared to anything around him , yet the poison of this pain was so great that he didn't need to feel it's pangs of attention to know it was destroying him slowly.
Twisting and turning him into something he didn't recognise.
Spurning him in his lost ways to do things he didn't know.
He breathed to himself quietly , still wholly confused about what actually turned him to do something like that in the moment , as it's like his brain had just shut off when he had gone to reach for the bottle.
Somehow thinking everything yet nothing at the same time.
And that actually scared him.
Because he had never been in such a place , like he had been in that moment. So overwhelmed and desperate. So harrowing and consuming. Feeling like the world was literally breaking on him , and that his only option , his only solution , was something so unknown to him.
And it still was.
Even after all the time that had passed since that incident , and he had just been extremely silent in the aftermath…With all the contemplation and ruminating he did , he still couldn't understand what it was that turned him to do that.
As if possessed in the moment by the epitome of grief and pity , and that woeful spirit was the one that guided him to do something so questionable. But once broken out of that spirit's spell , he was just left speechless and incomprehensive to that which happened.
Not understanding anything.
Other than one thing.
That moment when he gripped that damned shard and steady himself to do the one thing that he would never be able to take back if not stopped.
That moment was a moment of true weakness.
Nothing BUT weakness.
And he despised every bit of it.
Sickened him for being reduced to even think about going to such an extent , let alone actually acting upon it.
How low had he become that he believed that his only option to save himself was to spill his own blood? That the only escape he would have was the escape of death? That the problem would only be solved by the literal end of him?
He couldn't believe his mind had become so compromised , that he would actually think like that.
And honestly , now that he thought about it…
Maybe that was the problem with him all along?
Not the fact that he himself was the problem , but what he did in response to the problems that plagued him. Or if he had to be correct about it , what he didn't do in response to the problems he faced.
Because he was weak.
Not only that.
Weak and quick to submit.
Tears fell down the sides of his face with heavier weight as they increased in flow whilst he reminisced the bitter truth. Recalling to himself all the moments when he had been faced with fire , and what he did as a pitiful retaliation that did nothing but sink him deeper in his pathetic ways.
Whether that had been a physical challenge , a mental challenge , an emotional challenge , every time a challenge came he would be the loser at the end of it. The one in tears , the one with the trauma , the one who was consumed in depths of shadows to no end.
And because of that , it became clear to him now how much he truly lacked to withstand anything.
How weak he actually was and how much he lacked to actually do anything for himself either.
He hated it.
That this is what the truth was.
Nothing other than the fact he couldn't hold his own.
Mentally.
Physically.
Emotionally.
Wherever he was meant to be strong , he didn't possess what was needed to save himself. He didn't have what was necessary to mettle with the world and it's cruelty , hence that's why he always found himself at the end of something malicious and vile.
Hence he found himself always faltering when it came to the test. When it came to prove himself and his worth. And if not faltered , he hid away or tried to escape that which was cornering him.
Such a coward's behaviour.
It was despicable.
Dimmed bronze orbs swirled with intensity as he thought about when he would be provoked. Whether that be because of some harsh insults thrown his way , abuse that he never saw the end of , or anything other which was known to reduce him into a crumpled and tearful mess which didn't wish to leave the prison he called a home.
It was clear to him now that the only reason that he hurt wasn't because he was someone destined for that sort of life.
He refused to believe that.
But rather , he always got hurt because he didn't do something different.
He didn't change.
And all this time he knew why that was the case.
Because he was led on with the belief that things would change if he remained patient. That help would come his way if he remained firm in faith and wanting in his desires. Faith that was nothing but used to keep him in a futile delusion that would eventually break.
And now that it had ,
He wasn't going to let it break him any further.
He swallowed thickly as his bandaged fingers balled into themselves whilst burning bronze intensified with his growing resolve. His chest rose and sank deeply with each paced breath as he was cast into a new depth of thoughts as he knew now what his course of action would be.
If he wasn't strong yet.
He was going to change that.
He wasn't going to wait around any longer for some miraculous change to occur as it was clear it was never going to happen in the first place. Not with the corrupt judgement against him. Not with the injustice that he was condemned to , for something that he couldn't even answer about.
Be it humans or gods.
He was going to show he was stronger than any cruelty they wished upon him.
Stronger than anything that they could desire to make him suffer with.
Because it was clear to him now what he truly wanted.
He wanted to prove them WRONG.
For abandoning him.
For insulting him.
His existence.
His faith.
His intentions.
His will.
For unjustly criminalising him.
He wasn't going to let them enjoy seeing him break.
No.
He was going to get stronger.
He was going to get smarter.
He wasn't going to lose out anymore.
He wasn't going to wait for anything anymore.
If change wouldn't come to him.
He'd be the change he wanted.
He'd be the change needed.
That was his promise.
To the world that hated him.
To the gods that denied him.
Did they expect that they could just label him as a devil , put something on his face and he would just accept what they would subject him to without proper reason?
And such a flawed and corrupted reason to justify it all too?
They weren't going to be the ones having the last laugh.
Never.
He was going to make sure of that.
Not after what they did to him.
Not after what they took away from him.
His teeth grit in his mouth , clenching tightly as his fingers dug into his palms as his blood rushed with true reason for the first time. His visage seared with anger and assurance as lifted his head and looked into the darkness that had been threatening to take him under.
This time without fear.
This time with challenge.
Whatever happened to him now , he didn't care. All he knew now was what he had his eyes set on and how badly he truly wanted to attain it. Whatever the costs were , he was determined to do that which he desired.
Determined to refuse.
Refuse the enemy that wished for him to submit.
Refuse the cruelty that wished to take him captive.
Refuse from letting himself break and spiral one time more.
But most importantly.
Refuse the injustice that threatened to destroy him.
If the world was against him , if the gods were against him , if everything was against him…
He didn't need them.
He didn't need those who had no consideration for an innocent's suffering. He didn't need the assistance of those who would blindly hate and spew venom on false judgement.
And he especially didn't need those who would condone such a thing with no remorse.
He didn't need any of them.
He would show he was stronger than any injustice they could sentence him to. Above any sin they tried to paint him with and deface him further. He was going to do everything he could to save himself.
Because he wasn't just going to submit to such a corrupted judgement.
No.
Not anymore.
He refused to submit.
For the first time , he lifted his hands to his dampened and raw face , swiping the remainder of his tears from his pale cheeks and tear ducts as he rooted his resolves in him whilst doing so.
No more tears.
The azure haired boy sniffled to himself , swallowing the last of the sorrow he would allow to pour out as he wiped away the evidence of his utter weakness , the final testament the world would see about what it was successful in doing to him because it wouldn't see it again.
He didn't want to cry anymore.
Not like this.
Aggression grew in his movements as he used the gauze wrapped around the side of his thumb to rub away the pitiful essence of his soul that had been leaking out in all it's measure with no end.
But not anymore.
The look of frailty and misery replaced in his eyes with something else growing in it's stead as he continued to repeat his new found resolves to himself in his shattered mind that was finding strength as he could feel a foreign steel in him starting to form.
Form as he repeated to himself the following.
He's not going to be pathetic anymore.
He's not going to be a coward anymore.
He's not going to break anymore.
Because he refused to feel like this again.
He refused to break like this again.
He refused to cry like this again.
He refused to be weak like this again.
As the one thing that drove him now,
Was nothing other than the fact,
He refused to be weak.