𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒, 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒

~A new habit~

*Two days later*

I was sitting in my room, it was midnight and I was wide awake. I pulled out the packet of cigarettes, already half empty. I pulled out a fresh one, placing it between my lips as I grabbed the lighter off of my bedside table. I had found this in the drawer, somewhere downstairs, no one will miss it.

I stood up, making my way to the balcony. I slid the doors open before carefully closing them, I let the cold air hit my skin, I feeling I've come to love somehow. I lifted up the lighter, flicking it to life. I held the flame under the cigarette, letting it catch before letting the flame of the lighter die, I placed it back in my pocket as I took a puff of the cigarette.

I let out a small cough, even after two days and about thirteen cigarettes, I still wasn't quite used to it, but I didn't care. I looked out at the moon, it's fluorescent light shining down on me. It's funny really, any habit I seem to get results in pain... first Cutting myself, now smoking. I'm well aware that I could get lung cancer from this, but to be honest...

I don't fucking care.

I'm going to die one day anyway so what does it matter? It just means I won't have to live in this hell we call earth for so long. Plus, if I die young, I'll get to see Dad and Jax sooner anyway, I'm always whining about how I wanted to see them again, right?

Once the cigarette was finished, I let it fall to the ground before stomping on it. I felt calmer after the cigarette, that probably wasn't good, but like I said before.

I don't fucking care.

I stayed outside for a bit, letting the cold air calm me down. "Smoking isn't good for you, ya know." I heard Loneliness say, I rolled my eyes, not bothering to face him. "Says the literal demon who takes fun in making my life a living hell." I replied sarcastically, I heard him snicker before he walked over to me. I could practically feel the heat radiating off of his wings, the ashy smell of his breath attacking my nose.

"For someone who says smoking is bad, you sure as hell smell like you smoke." I said with a small chuckle, Loneliness however, didn't laugh. I let out a groan as I turned to face him. "God! Would you loosen up? I'm only joking! Damn, like what crawled up your ass and died?" I asked with a sly smirk, he just growled at me. "Oh so you're a dog now? Let me know what sniffing ass is like." I made my way back inside, leaping onto my bed.

Loneliness walked into the room, standing by the drawers. He picked up a photo, the photo of Jax, Dad and I. "Put that down, you don't get to touch that." I growled out, Loneliness turned to me with a sly smirk. "Who's the dog now?"

"Just fuck off."

~~

It was sadly Monday morning now, I had slept for about two hours last night, Loneliness wouldn't leave me alone.

I got in the shower, I took a forty minute shower since I got up early. I got out and dried myself off, I took the bandages off of my arms to see how the cuts were doing. They were healing well, I just hope they stay that way for a bit... having Sam visit every night is honestly quite tiring.

I got dressed into my normal clothes, a long sleeved white shirt, short sleeve black shirt on top, ripped blue jeans and my high top black and white vans. I slipped the cigarette packet and the lighter into my pants pocket before heading downstairs.

Even though I've started this new habit, I'm trying my best to limit how many cigarettes I have. One or two during the day, one at night if I'm awake. I got myself an apple for breakfast before leaving straight away.

I finished my apple shortly after, but I decided to have a smoke on the way so, I lit a cigarette before taking a large puff. "Fuck, I knew I was sick but I didn't think so much would happen while I was gone." Damian said as he walked up behind me, I turned to face him, sending a small smile his way.

"I just thought, you know what? Fuck it. I'm only going to live once, probably not that long either so- I pickpocketed some chicks cigarettes, tried it and now, I smoke." I said as though it was the simplest thing ever.

"You do realise that you could get lung cancer from that right?"

"Oh yeah!" I said, taking another puff. "Dude! Lung cancer can fucking kill you! What would your family think-" I spun back around to face Damian, effectively cutting him off as I began to speak. "That's the thing Damian! My family doesn't fucking care about me!! If they did they would have noticed I have problems right? All they think is 'oh, he's just having a rough teenage years' or 'he'll grow out of his emo phase'! But they don't understand! So what would it even matter if they find out, I don't plan on living long anyway. This just gives me an excuse."

As harsh as it sounds, it's true. My family doesn't really care about me, they just pretend. If they really cared, they would have noticed the nights I would lie awake, crying my eyes out in the hope for someone to comfort me. If they really cared, they would have noticed how depressed I constantly am, how I'm so sick of waking up everyday to do fuck all. If they really cared, they would notice I'm fucking suicidal, they would notice the marks on my arms, the tears in my eyes, the begging in my voice.

But they don't notice, they don't notice when I cry, they don't notice when I'm depressed, and they sure as hell haven't noticed that I'm constantly wishing death was better. No. Because they don't care about me, they don't care about how I'm really feeling, they just think I'm being a child. If they cared, they would talk to me, ask me what's wrong. If they cared, they'd be there for me when I had no one.

But they aren't.

My family doesn't care about me...

That's just the truth.