Insomnia

3

Patton POV

I ran to Roman's room, swinging open the door. "ROMAN!" I yelled.

The creative trait jumps, looks at me. "Have you ever heard of knocking?" He asked with a sour look on his face.

"No time. Come on! Sleepover in the living room!" I said excitedly jumping up and down.

He sighed, "okay. Let me get my PJs on and I'll be there."

I squealed, running out and heading for Virgil's room. When I got there, the door was locked.

Strange. He never locks his door if he's in there.

I knock, and heard a weird klack sound from the other side of the door.

"Virgil," I spoke, "kiddo? Are you okay?'

"Y-yeah, just give me a sec."

From the other side of the door, I could hear Virgil scrambling around the room. And I heard him swear. "Aah fuck."

"Language." I said.

A minute or two later, Virgil opens his door. He looked tired and drained, like he was crying or something.

"What do you want Patton?" He asked fiddling with his sleeves. I had a feeling I was interrupting something, but I shake the thought.

"Well," I started. "We're having a sleepover in the living room tonight. And you're invited. Come on!" I grabbed his wrist, pulling him to the living room.

I heard Virgil hiss behind me, taking that he didn't want to join. But we need to have everyone get along.

Once in the large living area, "Let's get this sleepover started!" I chimed in.

Logan was looking through movies and games we had. Roman was looking in a mirror, maybe making sure he didn't have bed head.

Everyone was in their PJs, even myself. Had the snacks, refreshments, and tissues (in case we watch toy story 3)

"TIME TO HAVE FUN!"

Warning:

If you are sensitive or easily triggered, skip this segment of the chapter. And I'll let you know when it's over.

TW: Self harm.

Virgil POV

*Slice*

I'm not important

*Slice*

I'm a pathetic trait

*Slice*

Nobody cares about a disorder

*Slice*

Nobody cares about me

With every cut, from my wrist up. Everytime the razor blade, would dig in deeper and deeper. I felt some sort of.... Release.

I use to cut myself for the longest time, everywhere that could be easily hidden. On my arms, on my stomach, even my legs.

Before this moment, I was only a month clean. A month without cutting, I thought I was getting better. But I'm not.

*Knock. Knock.*

I jumped. Dropping the razor blade, causing a klacking sound.

"Virgil?"

It's Patton.

Fuck!

"Kiddo? Are you okay?"