𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒. ( 𝘫𝘰𝘩𝘯𝘯𝘺𝘣𝘰𝘺 )

Chapter Three // Blue

Trigger Warning - Cutting

The young, sixteen year old boy lay on his back at the park. He was staring at the clouds again and hoping he could piece a picture together like some puzzle.

He always does this when he's feeling sad or blue, lonely. He just wishes to hold his soul mate in his arms or be in his soul mates arms.

Ponyboy just wants to be loved and cared for. He sits up slowly and watches as a couple went by, wide smiles on their faces and fingers intertwined.

A frown makes its way onto his face and he sniffles. Couples walking by always made him saw because he knew finding his soul mate was going to be impossible.

'In going to die alone, no doubt... My soulmate probably doesn't even want to be with me. If they find me, they will see how stupid I am and how dumb I look... And then... Leave me...'

The young boys eyes starts to water and he feels his mood go down more than it already was. He stands up slowly and staggers out of the park as tears stream down his cheeks.

'I don't know why I'm alive anymore... My brothers are just burdened with me. I'm always a bother and I'm always somehow in the way.'

Ponyboy starts running as fast as he can, trying to get away from everyone, trying to get away from society. He didn't want to be there anymore and he just wanted to... Die...

He finally stops in an empty lot and collapses into his knees, scraping the flesh raw. He feels his knees sting and burn as blood slowly pours out of the wounds.

His sobs come out broken and he shakes lightly, trying to keep himself under control. Ponyboy, the happy boy everyone thought he was, was slowly slipping away unnoticed.

The young boy sobs violently as he searches around for his hidden item. He promised himself it was only for self defence but now he wanted it for self harm. After a few minutes he finds it and holds it tightly in his hands, feeling the blade dig into his hand slightly.

Taking the blade, he cleans it with his shirt and slowly pulls up the long sleeves of his shirt, pressing it ever so lightly against his clear, pure, and pale skin.

Ever so slowly, he presses down on the blade, causing it to cut into his skin. A cry of pain escapes his lips, for the first time was always the most painful...

He slid the blade across his skin easily, a long, straight line on his arm. Blood slowly leaks out of the wound, another sob escaping his lips.

'Just let me die...'

He makes another cut, and another, and another, unable to stop himself. On the fifth and final one he makes, he keeps the blade pressed on his skin, looking at the damage he has made to himself.

"Hey! S-stop that," a voice yells at him.

×  ×  ×  ×  ×

How was this?