The Small Box (MaskedMexican)

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Whoops. Max couldn't get to poor Ohmie in time. This is partially for Sielu_Soulclan's torment. Trigger warning.


Ohm stared at his computer screen in horror,depression lashing out wickedly at his mind as he scanned the three lines over and over,vision blurring with oncoming tears.

"Ohm?"

Sark's voice barely registered in his mind before the male ended the call,shoving it in his pocket as he pushed away from his computer desk. Tears were rolling down his cheeks,and he felt like his lungs were being crushed slowly,making it hard for him to breathe. Fuck,fuck,fuck,he thought wildly,not this,not now. But the effects of the panic attack were consuming his mind,allowing his more abusive thoughts to creep underneath the barrier he had put up to shield himself.

Worthless.

He cringed,and before he knew it,he had submitted to the urge and found himself retrieving the small box he hated. He promised he'd never pick it back up again,but now...that promise seemed invisible. I'm sorry,Max. Ohm stumbled into his bathroom,setting the box on the sink counter before easing off the lid to dump the contents out. The familiar,cold steel blade clattered out onto the counter,followed by a crisp white cloth,and then a single roll of bandages. Mindlessly,Ohm hurled the box into his bedroom,and it hit his wall,breaking on impact with an oddly satisfying crack!

You're not worth anything to him.

The email's lines rang clearly in his mind,and he rolled up his left sleeve,revealing skin marred with several white scars and awfully fresh cuts. Everything faded to white noise,and he had gotten three long,slanted cuts just below the crook of his arm,when his cell phone rang. His thoughts shattered,and the blade fell from his hand into the sink,the thin edge soaked in crimson.

"H-Hello?"

"Ohm?!"

"H-Hey,Sark."

"What happened?! Are you okay?"

"Ye-Yeah,I'm fine,"

Ohm struggles,grabbing the cloth and pressing it the best he could against the gashes.

"Don't lie,what did you do?"

Ohm clenched his jaw,and was about to speak when the male over the phone spoke first,

"Max is coming back to check on you. Don't do anything."

Ohm's eyes widened,and in his moment of disbelief,a cracked whimper escaped him,pain throbbing in his arm.

"Ohm? What did you do?"

"Hurts.."

Ohm whispered,dully aware of the fact that blood was starting to seep through the cloth. Sark hung up,and Ohm let the cell phone fall from his grasp,and he stumbled over to sit on the edge of the bathtub. He applied more pressure,attempting to stop the worrying large amount of blood he was losing. Dark spots clouded his vision as he fought unconsciousness. Looking down at his arm told him he wasn't going to make it very long. The blade had traversed through fresh cuts and healed ones,making multiple open and bleed freely,causing crimson streams to drip down his arm. It splashed onto the bathroom tile floor,supplying the one noise keeping him awake.

Come on,no one will notice when you're gone. Your family wouldn't even mourn you. They deserted you.

Blood was staining his right palm by now,and his jeans were soaked with it where his left arm was resting. Ohm let his eyes close,but they opened drowsily as the sound of his front door being opened reached his ears. He could hear someone calling his name,but it became faint as unconsciousness loomed ahead of the bleeding out male. Suddenly,a figure entered the bathroom,and arms wrapped around Ohm,making him whimper as pain jolted up his arm. He could just hear the sond of a phone being dialled,while a familiar voice filled his ears,

"Come on,Ohm,stay with me."

Too late,Max.

The claws of unconsciousness grasped Ohm,draggng him under,and he promptly passed out. Upon feeling the male in his arms go limp,Max felt tears well up in his eyes. Why would Ohm do this? What would cause him to...Max looked down at the unresponding male,and felt his heart break. What if he was too late? What if the ambulance came too late? What if Ohm bled out and it was all his fault..?

Only time will tell. Unfortunately,you let Ohm down this time.

The small box causing all this harm was sitting perfectly unharmed on Ohm's computer desk,where the email he had been sent flickered on the screen before promptly disappearing.

You weren't there for him.

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