actions of regret - akitoya.

seven.

toya's pov: 3:40- 25/05/23

i didn't want to do anything. i couldn't bring myself to move even a single inch. i was drained- exhausted- in every way possible.

i don't want to blame akito, because truthfully this is all my fault anyway. but i think he didn't put much thought into this insensitive, drastic resolution.

i know it's selfish. i know i'm a terrible person but honestly, i was so fucking annoyed. obviously this all rooted from a place of worry and despair but i still couldn't help but feel a seething, burning firey pit of pure rage engulf my stomach.

i was so so infuriated. and moreover, dejected. i wish i could've helped him. i wish i didn't think he was just trying to get attention.

i'm sorry akito. i'm sorry.

and then the idea came into my head. it was utterly stupid, probably a mistake i shouldn't be making.

but it didn't stop me from going into my en suite bathroom, taking a razor blade into my grasp. i recalled the scars snaking up akito's boney arms.

i shouldn't be doing this, look at how my partner ended up. he was addicted.

but that won't happen to me- i've never harmed myself before, i usually thought of people like that as weak. but here i am ready to break the smooth, clean skin on my arm.

just this once. just this one time, so i can let go of the pent up stress within me. today only and never again.

one cut will be enough, i'm fine.

i brought the blade to my skin, slicing through the epidermis layers. blood began flooding out my arm after a few seconds, it didn't phase me. i was getting what i deserved. this was my karma.

but to my dismay, the overwhelming sense of numbness was still there.

i quickly sliced my arm again and again and again, not feeling the sweet release i would've expected.

"just one" i couldn't stop. i broke my skin over and over, but it wasn't working. i didn't feel better. tears seeped out my eyes.

i grounded myself again, reality hitting me like a truck as i stared at the deep self inflicted wounds.

blood spilling out, i didn't know what to do.

applying pressure deemed useless as the crimson began staining my clothing and the white floor tiles of my bathroom.

i wrapped a bandage around my forearm, giving up on the prevention of pouring blood. if i bled out- so be it.

i couldn't care less.