Disclaimer: I don't own any LOTR Characters.

Note-This chapter is graphic, contains self-mutilation.

Chapter 13 ~Habits never broken~

Look at the razor blades

dancing around me.

Aren't they so pretty?

With their eyes always twinkling,

and their wondrous lust for blood.

My Blood.

I hate my blood.

It contains life.

Life isn't essential to me,

the pain is always there,

loneliness is always at my door-step,

misery is always raining down on me,

each drop corroding my insides.

I've got nothing to loose,

and nothing to gain.

I wish death could come,

and take my breath away,

and leave my body to rot.

And when I die,

there will be a smile on my face.

Because the pain will finally be gone.



Charity kneeled before her window, looking out at the sky. She was counting the stars, it was practically hard to keep count because there was so many. The moon was full and it's light shone down on land. The stars were bright, and the lightly tossed Charity's hair.

She kneeled silently, admiring the darkness and serenity. The stars suddenly became blurry, she blinked, but it did nothing.

***Flashback***

"Never talk back to me!" The woman slapped the girl. "So you think that having guests gives you the authority to treat me like crap?" The woman yelled, she gave the girl one last hard kick. With a sickening thud, the girl fell onto the cold ground. The woman sneered in satisfaction and stormed out of the room.

The girl never questioned her mother, or her ways of disciplining. She had been brainwashed, thinking that she was a bad child and everything wrong was her fault, not her mother's.

As she lay in a pool of blood, it seemed that time elapsed so slowly as she cried inside. The girl laid with her body curled up, her head on her outstretched arm, she wiggled her fingers and stroked the blood-soaked floor.

"Never cry, nope, never cry," the little girl whispered. "I'm bad, yes. Need to be punished, yes."

She rolled onto her back, the blood stained her shirt. She lifted her arms into the air, and sung in raspy, haunting voice:

"Slash, slash, goes my skin.

Punch, punch, goes my beautiful mother.

Bleed, bleed, goes my body.

Cry, cry, goes my heart.

Why, why, goes my mind.

Die, Die, goes my soul."

She quickly shut her mouth, she wanted to cry so badly. With all her might, she tightly shut her eyes. If she cried there would be another discipling lesson. No, she surely didn't want another one. Blood was still seeping from this girl's body, bloody finger prints stained her face, marking her mother's rage. Strangely, the girl became relaxed with all the blood spilling out of her. It almost felt soothing.

The girl heard the door creak, it slowly opened.

'No.' The girl let out a quiet whimper and turned her head.

She was back for more...

***End of flashback***

Charity shuddered. She found herself at the other side of the room, shaking and clutching her knees. The room seemed to be spinning so she held her breath.

'Can't stand this, punish, punish,' she repeated to herself.

Her eyes darted around, looking for something sharp.

'No, no, stop. I can deal with this,' she tried to reassure herself.

Something shiny suddenly caught her eyes. Her eyes traced the tile floor, then up the bed's leg, across the wooden bed board. It was an end of a nail.

Charity stared at the nail transfixed. Like a dog running to it's master, she crawled towards the nail. The candlelight seemed to grow brighter as she sat in front of the nail. She slowly lifted her arm and pulled her sleeves up. Not her right arm, which was already severely, but her left arm. She hesistated for a moment, but shook her head an brought her arm towards the cold metal.

In one quick motion she quickly swiped her arm across the nail. There was a small stinging feeling, she looked down. There was no blood, no deep cut, just a scratch. The nail was dull.

"Damnit" Charity said in frustration and bit her lip.

Unsure of what to do she let her arm fall onto her lap. She sat on the ground defeated and slouching.

'Wimp,' A voice repeated in her head. Charity lifted her head.

'No, I'm not a wimp. I can draw blood,' she countered.

Once again, she lifted her arm. This time she thought of a different way to draw blood; pricking herself. In short, but sharp movements she jabbed the nail into her arm then quickly jerked to the left of her, tearing her skin. She did this repeatedly. There was no hint of pain in her facial expression. She looked down at her arm, it was a raw pink color, tender, but there was no blood. Pieces of skin hung from the nail. This still didn't satisfy her. She brought her arm towards the nail again.

Like a vampire about to sire, the nail enchanted her.

With one fast motion she swiped her already-tender skin on the nail. Her skin erupted and the blood started to seep out from the cut. Sharp pain crept upwards from her wound. She looked down, she smiled at the blood trickling down her arm. Blood splattered onto the ground in a melodious rhythm.

She sat in the dim lit room for several minutes bleeding out. Eventually she got up and wrapped her arm with a piece of cloth. She struggled to keep her balance as she walked. The blood on the floor was quickly wiped away and the towel was disposed.

Charity slowly got on her bed and laid down, she smiled with satisfaction. She closed her eyes and savored all the pain. This was her release, dangerous or not this was her only way out. There was a sudden know on the door. Charity slowly sat up, she wondered who would be knocking her door late at night. Finally deciding to open the door, and to her surprise it was Legolas, also holding a plate full of food.

"What are you doing here?" Charity asked.

"I can't leave you harming yourself, so I've come to help," Legolas said. Charity was shocked, but appalled. She didn't want help.

"Er...um. Come in," Charity said.

Legolas casually walked in. He thought he knew what he was doing, but in reality what he was about to do would be wrong in every doctor's book. He placed the food onto the bed. Charity stood behind him, worrying. She fiddled with her fingers.

"Can I see your arm?" Legolas asked.

Charity walked towards him and pulled her sleeves up. Legolas scanned her arm thoroughly; no new cuts, just scabs and scars. He nodded his head in approval. Charity withdrew her arm and brought it close to her chest. Legolas turned away. She was relieved that Legolas never asked to see her other arm that was newly cut.

"Well, I know you don't like to eat, but I brought you some food to help you with your anorexia," Legolas said, "An I'm-" Legolas hesitated to continue.

Legolas didn't need to finish his sentence, she knew he wasn't going to leave until she finished the plate of food. She didn't want to argue with him, so she nodded her head and sat on the bed, and stared down at the food. Even though the food may have been the finest, she didn't take heed of the taste, just chew and swallow. Legolas stood nearby, but didn't look at her for the sake of her own privacy.

It took an unusually long time for her to finish her food, but she managed to fork down most of it.

"Legolas, could you get me some water?" Charity politely asked.

"Sure, I'll be right back," Legolas said and walked out of the room.

Legolas quietly stepped into the kitchen and picked up a glass cup from one of the cabinets. He filled it up with water and made his way back, but he froze, he felt the wind knocked out of him, and he dropped the cup. He watched as it fell to the ground and shattered into pieces, and the water quickly stretching across the floor. Legolas snapped out of his unusual trance and started picking up the glass shards. He wondered what had just happened while picking up a piece of glass, but he quickly felt pain and jerked his hand away. The glass had cut his finger and he was now bleeding. He moved his hand closer towards him and watched the blood drip to the ground, he rubbed his fingers together, spreading the blood even more.

Suddenly realized something and broke into a sprint. He quickly ran back to Charity's room, but she wasn't there.

'Where is she?' Legolas frantically looked around. 'The bathroom!'

Legolas speed through the hallway to the bathroom. The bathroom light was already turned on and he could hear Charity coughing, she had just vomited everything.

"Charity!" Legolas rushed over to her, but was stopped.

"No!" Charity said in a harsh whisper, "I'll be fine, just let me rest."

Legolas took a step back and looked at the girl with concern.

"I'm sorry," Legolas said, "I should've known better."

Charity turned her head towards him and gave him a weak smile, but started coughing again.

"It's okay," Charity finally said, "You were only trying to do what you thought was best."

Charity put her head down on the toilet seat and heaved a sigh of tiredness. Out of nowhere she asked:

"Legolas, what makes you sad?"

Legolas hesitated for a moment. "Knowing that my friends will someday leave me because they're mortal, and there's nothing I can do about it." He said, "Saddens me even more to watch someone immortal dying."

"So death saddens you?"

"Yes," He replied, "I guess you can say that, but why are you asking?"

"I'm sorry if this saddens you," Charity whispered, "But I don't wand to live anymore. I don't see the point in going on. If I die, all the pain will go away. There's only pain for me if I live."

Legolas wanted looked at the broken girl, who was smiling while she wished to die.

"There is so much more to life than pain," Legolas desperately said, "There's beauty in this world, don't you see it?"

Charity smirked, questioning him.

"All you have to do is face the past," Legolas wanted to shake her. "Life isn't all about pain, there's good in this world, there's love, why can't you see beyond?"

"Because I'm blinded by hate!" Charity felt anger swell up and she stood up.

"I felt the good in the world! I felt love," Charity shouted, "But it was taken away from me, all of it! I let her take all of it away from me! I didn't even get to cry, Legolas!"

Charity stopped yelling and looked at the elf. There was nothing more than pity in his eyes. She realized that she was yelling at the only person that knew that she cut herself, the only person that was trying to help her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Charity said in haste and quickly bolted from the room.

'What have I done?' Charity thought to herself as she ran into her room. She shut the door and leaned against it, she slid down and put her face in her hands.

Legolas had followed her, but he didn't run, he slowly walked to her room in the dark. He stood before her door, wondering what to do. He placed his head on the door.

'I don't want to leave you like this.'

***

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