Sanity ~ marvel cast.

1

Trigger warnings: panic attack, self destructive emotional regulation (kinda like self harm) and abuse :D.

Smash your head against the fucking wall until you feel your skull crack.

"No." I mutter while rolling over onto my other side, facing the other way and shaking my head slightly, just trying to dismiss the constant requests in my mind, ones of which I don't want to complete.

The only light in my room is the soft glow coming from the cracked screen of my phone. The light flickers every time I scroll, using other peoples problems and situations to try and melt mine away.

Why don't you go into the kids room instead and do the same to them?

"No!" I almost yell while throwing the thin blanket from my body and shaking my head, scrunching into a small ball.

A few stray tears fall from my eyes all while I pick at my lips. I don't think I began to notice when I stopped crying or when crimson red droplets fell onto my sheets below, dripping from the scabs on my lips that I've been picking.

My fingers fall from around my mouth, pulling the blanket back over my body, craving the warmth and comfort that I never get. (It's really fucking cold in England). (Forgot to mention but she lives in England. I don't recommend).

I, once again, lay down, tears falling every now and then and close my eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Shit!" I gasp while sitting up and inhaling sharply as a freezing splash of water collides with my face. Almost immediately after swearing and sitting up, Maggie slaps me across the face. Fuck, that's gonna be a bitch to cover up.

"You keep that foul language out of my orphanage." Her face is red, like an inflated tomato and I'm not even gonna start to describe the hysterics of the rest of her.

"Yes ma'am." I mumble through gritted teeth.

"Speak up. I can't hear you." She grins which just makes me take a long blink, as if my eyes need to refresh. (Yk what I mean?)

"Yes ma'am." This time the words are almost getting shouted at her.

"Good. Now get up and make breakfast." With those final words, she waddles away and slams the door shut behind her, making me flinch at the action.

Rolling out of bed with a groan while looking at the clock reading: 6:00, I stumble towards the small set of drawers to get dressed.

I end up picking out a short sleeved nirvana baby-tee and flared jeans with a star pattern on them near my thighs and downwards.

Pulling the nirvana t-shirt over my head, I get a thought.

You need to do that again or you'll end up murdering someone.

I roll my eyes at the stupidity. Of course not doing that won't cause such a life changing event to happen. As I finish putting the shirt on, I get a tight feeling in my chest. Fear.

What if that does happen now that I didn't do the request?

Finally giving in, the shirt gets taken off and put back on two more times.

Good, now the T-shirt has been on three times. Three is a good number. (I didn't know what to make as her lucky number so I used one of mine).

The feeling of anxiety and fear is relieved as I walk out of my bedroom. On the way out, I touch the doorknob with my opposing dominant hand to make it feel right.

Surprisingly, brushing my teeth and having a shower have no challenges - for once.

As I finish getting redressed from the shower, I pick up my phone to see that I have a few notifications. That's odd. I usually only have one or two when a movie that I was looking forwards to on Netflix came out. Someone's been E-mailing me.

My face forms into a frown from confusion and just when I'm about to check it, the door clicks open, making me put the phone behind my back, only for it to just be another kid from the building.

"Hurry up." She mumbles. That's strange, I've never seen her before. "I need to piss." She's got a Scottish accent which surprises me. Most of the kids here have northern English accents, including me, but none of us are from Scotland.

She has snakebite piercings and multiple nose ones, a few on her eyebrows and her ears are littered with them. Her hair is a black shade with streaks of dark green and blue. Her skin is incredibly pale besides the bags under her eyes which are a dark grey almost matching the colour of her irises, a deep blue. Some may not say it but she's quite beautiful.

"Yeah, sorry." My answer is breathy and quick as I walk past her and continue to walk down the corridor, looking back at her as she enters the room.

Looking over the other shoulder to make things feel right, I walk down the stairs and arrive to the kitchen.

Before I even get a chance to sit down and relax on this fine Saturday morning, Maggie looks up at me from the sofa that she's parked on and begins to speak.

"Oi, Y/n, make us breakfast will ya?" From past experience, I know that this question isn't a request but an order and if I don't let's just say I won't have only one red mark to cover up.

"Of course ma'am." I roll my eyes while slotting my phone in the back pocket of my jeans. Normally, she wouldn't let the eye rolling slide. But I just have to go and fucking ruin things as always. "It's not like it's your orphanage or anything."

Being the oldest of all the kids here, at fourteen, I've practically run the place since I was twelve and when I don't do as Maggie says, I get hit, punched, kicked, whatever she can generally be arsed to do.

Today she has a new method.

As I prepare the supplies to make pancakes, what everyone here has had on Saturdays since... well for as long as we can remember, she grabs the wooden spoon from my fingers and slaps it down, hard, against my arm and across my wrist.

My eyes instantly gloss over with tears at the unexpected action, a small whimper escaping my mouth as I bite down on my lip and draw a few drops of blood.

Grab the knife next to you and stab her in the eye.

"No." I say, not sure whether I'm dismissing the thoughts or myself from the situation even though what I do next is not guessed by anyone in the room.

Fight or flight.

I choose flight.