Eyes For You | | YOONMIN

I'm doing it again

If easily triggered over mentions of mental health issues then don't read this chapter.
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        A week. It's been a whole week since I last went to school. It's been a whole week since I haven't gotten out of bed and refused to eat my food and cried on multiple occasions.

Namjoon and Hoseok had gotten home from the party on their own, suddenly becoming very sober after hearing from Jin that I was crying at home. They respected the fact that I didn't want to go to school and thought that I just needed my space right now. Though I haven't told them about what happened at the party with Yoongi, they know that they shouldn't pry right now. Not when I'm like this.

My eyes hadn't changed from the color of amber in a while and I didn't see the point of putting in contacts. (Amber means mixed emotions, unsettled). I didn't see the point in doing anything to be honest.

I stared at the ceiling, listening to the voices in my head play over and over again like a broken record.

"Ugly."

"Faggot."

"Slut."

"Disgusting."

"Go kill yourself."

I sat up, ruffling my hair before looking down at my arms, seeing the faint scars that I tried so hard to make fade away.

I haven't done it in a while.

It scared me. It scared me so much that I could think about doing it again and not care. Walking over to my bathroom, I positioned myself in front of the toilet like it was habit and took off my shirt. Sticking my slender fingers into my mouth, I began thrusting against my throat at a harsh speed until finally...I threw up. There was nothing much besides spit to throw up since I hadn't eaten much food during the week. Over and over again, I threw up the contents of my stomach until I was satisfied.

It's not enough. I need more.

Getting up from the floor, I looked under the bathroom rug and pulled out the sliver blade that I had hidden there a while back. Staring at my stomach, I slowly started to draw against the skin, watching the paleness turn red as the blood dripped down my stomach and on the floor. After a few more random cuts, I felt satisfied. And hungry.

I didn't seem to care about putting on a shirt or the blood that dropped on the floor as I walked to the kitchen. I took some ice cubes in a bowl and poured salt on them. Taking an ice cube, I sucked off the salt on it, careful not to let the salt stay on my tongue for too long as I would get burned. Not that I cared enough about burns or cuts or anything at all. I sucked on a few more ice cubes before going back to my room and finally put on a random top, letting my blood color the shirt.

Lying down on my bed, I thought to myself.

I'm doing it again. I'm slowly destroying what my friends tried so hard to fix about me. And I can't even blame anybody else, I can only blame myself. It's all my fault. Everything is my fault.

Tears painted streaks on my face as I shook in my own arms.

"Everything is my fault." I said, barely above a whisper. 

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I'm sorry that this chapter was really sad but I'm just not in the mood. I asked someone to help me on a project and I don't get what he's trying to tell me. I'm sorry I'm stupid and dumb but you don't have to yell and get annoyed with me. This is why I don't ask for help. I'm better off on my own. Also if anyone knows what I meant with ice cubes and salt, then I'm really sorry. It's something that I do all the time to suppress my hunger but I really hope none of you guys do it. I'm sorry I'm like this. Anyway like, comment and all that. Love you💜🦋
P.S. I'll try and make the next chapter a bit happier.