12 ==> *Trigger Warning*

⚠ Skip this chapter if you are easily triggered by explicit self-harm content. ⚠

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Frozen in place, you cowered at her words as she left with quiet footsteps. You quickly shut your door and locked it before having a seat on the wooden chair by the desk. Your fingers slowly brushed through the thick mess you call hair, trying to wrap your brain around so many outcomes.

'I'll personally slit your brother and father's throat right in front of you, and leave you to live with the memory.' Her words echoed off of your cranium like daggers to the head. Everything was beginning to feel suffocating, the room, your clothes, even the air tasted stale and unwanted. You stripped from your shirt, disregarding it to the floor to relieve some pressure, but a wave of emotion hit you. As much as you wanted to stop, the hot tears were already traveling down to the bottom of your chin.

This was your fault, a thought whispered through your head, and it was more than believable. With one slip up, your family can die because of you. Why did you have to be so stupid and listen to Sollux? What would happen if your father found out about this ordeal? How are you going to live with yourself, knowing your bloodline is at risk?

You don't deserve anything.

Nothing is what you deserve, but pain is something you can deliver. The rush of mixed sorrow and devastation plagued your mind, making it almost impossible to think rationally. You feel like bursting into a fit of rage against yourself, but at the same time emptiness beckons you and the feeling to cry is overwhelming. Knowing and not wanting to trust yourself, an alarming urge to tell someone crossed your withering mind. Should you text her...?

You quickly found your phone and tapped on the communicator, grasping onto the last resort in dwindling reassurance.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling grimAuxiliatrix [GA] --

[CG]: UM. KANAYA ARE YOU THERE?

[CG]: ITS KINA IMPORTANT BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE IM ABOUT TO DO SOMETHING VERY IDIOTIC AND I FEEL... WEIRD.

[CG]: BUT ITS WHATEVER REALLY...

[CG]: I CAN SEE YOU'RE BUSY SO I'LL SHUT MY JABBERING HOLE.

[CG]: I'LL TALK TO YOU LATER.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling grimAuxiliatrix [GA] --

An angry sob left your throat as you threw the phone on the floor. You immediately regret dragging her into your emotional down pour, but you'll make an excuse up later. Your mind is clouded with negative feelings, choking by your own faults. Glancing over at the metal garbage can, the feelings and thoughts had worsen. You feel weak for crying, breaking down, and on the verge to hurt yourself again. It's what a mutant like you deserves, right?

You're a pathetic burden, just do it already.

Should you stoop to that level again? It certainly has been a good while since...

You violently shook your head and stood up, pacing the hardwood floor. "Keep it together Karkat... You promised..." You spoke softly to yourself, desperately looking for a distraction from the dark thoughts. Letting your mind win would make you look even more pathetic, but you're already indifferent in everyone else's eyes so what would it matter? Maybe if it's just a few, Kanaya wouldn't notice and everything would be okay.

It's okay... Right?

With little thought placed into the decision, you wiped your face with your bare hands and slowly stepped towards the hiding spot. You kicked the trash bin forcibly to the side and picked up a broken piece of razor underneath. The metal glistened in the rising sunlight as you inspected it. Speckled with dried blood from the breakdown before, the sharp edges brought back painful memories of loneliness and sadness. You think it's about time to make more to remember.

With the razor at hand, you made yourself comfortable on the desk chair. You're hesitant to do anything, because of the promise you've made to Kanaya. The look on her face was so upsetting that night, and to think you're about to relapse on a death sentence.

She only pities you anyway.

Taking a look at your wrist, you traced your fingers lightly across the vertical and horizontal scars that lightly paint your grey skin. They overlap each other like a twisted game of checkers, eager to hit a vein and replace life with death. The old game was healed now, but forever etched into your arm as an awkward glance for strangers to see. Those times are careless accidents, you hate others knowing because of ridiculed comments. They don't understand the stress, the darkness you're dragged into. You wished your mind was more... Normal, more clear and less fogged with insecurities.

The new game starts off as of like the others did; a swift flick of the hand and the blood dots up to the surface. Red, the color you hate, the color that makes your life a living and breathing hell. You feel nothing but the glossy tears, silently rolling down like a tiny stream of resentment. Why can't you feel the pain? Putting pressure on the blade did the trick, slicing the fragile skin as if it was paper. You clenched your jaw together and steadied the shaky hand on your desk. Every movement of your arm stung and you enjoyed that feeling of release, the blood trickling down and onto the wood.

You deserve this.

More.

Pathetic mutant.

One more time.

Just a waste of fucking space.

You finished, holding the razor and watched it shake violently in your hand. The blood was so thick everywhere, you couldn't even see the damage you've inflicted on your arm. A deep sigh escaped your lips as you picked up the tossed shirt and left the sanctuary of the block. You were careful to look out for anyone in the house as you stealthily snuck into the open bathroom to wash everything off.

"Kanaya's going to cull me." You spoke in a low tone as the water cleaned the open wounds. You've reached the regretting stage a lot early than anticipated, but it only makes you feel worse than the throbbing pain of the cuts touching running water. The thoughts that pushed you here stayed for the show as the numbing zombie you once were was placed with deep sadness. It hurt like hell trying to neatly wrap some shared bandages from the other wound, graciously given by the blue blood. You finally stepped back, looking at both of your damaged forearms and then to the troll in the mirror.

He looked awful and you felt sorry for what you've done to him. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying, the expression of a damaged soul was only half of the feelings spewing out in a toxic gas. You wished there was another solution besides death to end his suffering. The most horrible thing about him though, the fact that the troll staring back at you, is a reflection of yourself.

"Karkat! Breakfast is ready!" The voice of your brother filled the small bathroom.

You were not ready to face the day just yet and an appetite wasn't even there, but making them wait on you would only have them question. With a slip of the long sleeved shirt over your head, you made your way into the social affairs of family, unable to think clearly and in need of a serious hug.