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I'm so sick (LARVIS) 💔

TW RELIGIOUS TRAUMA, ABUSE, MENTIONS OF THE R SLUR (I CAN RECLAIM), SH, AND PANIC ATTACKS ALSO IN THIS AU TRAVIS LIVES IN THE APARTMENTS
TRAVIS POV

I hate him, I hate myself, I hate everything. I look into the mirror, at my tear stained face and at my fucked up eye. He let me off easy this time, and I still cried like a bitch. I slammed my hands down on the sink, causing it to crack. I held my breath and look down in horror as part of the sink chipped and fell off. I began to panic more as I desperately tried to put it back. To my disadvantage, only more came off. The bathroom door opened and I stared at him. He gave me a disgusting look and glared at the sink. Before I knew it, I was being dragged by my shirt collar. He threw me to the floor and kicked my stomach.

"HOW FUCKING STUPID ARE YOU? THIS IS GOING TO COST US A FORTUNE? DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW BADLY YOU FUCKED US OVER?" I whimpered and sniffled trying to make out a response, only to wail. "SHOULD I TALK SLOWER LIKE YOU'RE RETARDED?? PAYDAY ISNT FOR ANOTHER FEW DAYS, AND I NEED THIS MONEY FOR ACTUAL IMPORTANT SHIT. NOT FOR FIXING A SINK MY FUCKING CRYBABY SON BROKE WHILE BEING A LITTLE BITCH." As I cried he left the room and called up what I assumed was a janitor/plumber that could help fix it. I went into my room and tried to stifle my cries as much as I could. I heard the front door click and realized that he left. I tried to make myself presentable for whenever the person would arrive. Nothing was working. My hair was a mess, my eyes were grossly red, and worst of all my body. Everyday I did whatever I could to make it feel better to look at. But all I see whenever I catch a glimpse of myself, is a worthless faggot who God will never love. Everyday I fear for the en
d of times, when I know I'll be sent to an eternal pit of flames for simply being in love. I began to panic again and looked for it. It would help, I would feel better if I used it.

I opened my secret box and pulled out the sharp thin blade from one of my dad's razors and held it up to my upper thigh, lifting my shorts with it. I slashed and cut until the thick red substance was covering my legs. I was still crying, I was still hyperventilating, and I still hated myself. However for a brief moment I felt relief. I was too out of it to notice the front door open, and I quickly threw on some pants that would cover my pitiful attempts at coping and wiped my face to meet the worker who was supposed to help us. I was shocked to see Larry Johnson, instead of his mother. I scowled at him, but still let him in. I need him to help me fix my mess. He tried to greet me, but I only ignored him, and showed him the broken sink.

"Alright dude, how the hell did this happen?" "It was an accident idiot." "No need to be hostile, just a question." As he got down on his knees to apply the liquid to fix the broken piece, he paused as he looked at me. Not just me, my legs. "Whatever gay thoughts you are having need to cut it out, I'm not like you." "There's blood on your pants..." I quickly looked down to realize that there was still leftover blood, bleeding through my jeans. I went silent and tried to leave the room, only for my leg to be grabbed. "Travis I know we aren't really friends but still, I cant just let you leave with those." "Why do you even care?! I hate you and you hate me, so aren't you happy I'm hurting myself?! You tell me to go to hell everyday, isn't this helping your little goal?!" I was exasperated and could feel my throat closing up as he gave me a shameful look. "I care because I help Sal with these every time it happens, it'd be hypocritical if I didn't ." I took off my jeans shamefully and he began to clean off my scars...