●~Not All There Anymore~● |BEING REWRITTEN|

|10| The World Just Keeps Taking

Izuku growled as he turned another corner, still running down the street with green lightning dancing around him. "I said shut up. I don't care what you have to say, dammit!" The voices laughed again. They just kept talking, their growling voices overlapping. They burned in his ears like nails on a chalkboard. The slimy dripping hands crawled up around his throat. They seemed to drip pure sadistic fear. Izuku brought up his own hand to his neck, trying to protect it. It did nothing.

Such a scared, scared little boy. The voices taunted, sadistic laughter ringing in Izuku's ears. Still such a little boy. You couldn't protect your mother then, and now, years later, you still can't. Because you're just a scared. Little. Boy.

Izuku growled, fed up. He slammed his back against a brick building, clutching at his head, pulling and tugging at his hair. He shook his head, trying to shake the noises from his head. They only got louder as he sunk to the ground. They taunted, they laughed and banged against the walls of his mind. Izuku tried to breathe, to make them go away. He refused to cry. If he agreed with the voices about anything, it was that crying made him weak. He was already weak enough.

The voices continued to taunt, ripping apart every insecurity and weakness Izuku had locked away in the jails of his heart and mind.

So sad, aren't you Izuku? The voices suddenly quieted, just one deep sound in his mind. It was calm, none of the earlier amusement or horror in it. It was.... calming, like it was trying to comfort him.

So, so sad. You are just scared, aren't you? I understand. I understand, but they never will. They don't care, Izuku, but I do. We are just trying to show you, that life is not worth living anymore. It's not filled with friends or happiness. It's horrible and it kills. Life is so cruel that your own father didn't love you. Life is so, so cruel.

Izuku sniffled, struggling to hold back tears. The voices were trying to comfort him? Why? Were they right? Izuku no longer cared. He tore down every wall to get to that comfort, that warm voice that promised release. And that's when they struck. That's when they always struck.

So, so cruel, in fact..... So cruel, that your own mother didn't love you enough to stay alive.

Izuku's breath stilled. The slimy dripping hands closed around his throat. He wanted to murder those voices, all of the sudden. He stood up, eyes completely dry. And he shut his mind out. He closed his heart, and he locked it tight. He took those voices, those useless feelings, and stuffed them into bottles. Strong metal bottles, and he screwed them closed tight. Izuku chucked those bottles into the back of his mind, never to be found again. He would open them when the time comes.

Izuku peeled his heads away from his head and began walking again. His eyes drooped into a bored monotone expression. Hands shoved in pockets, head bent to the ground. He crossed through alleyways and shortcuts, kicking rocks down cracked roads. The black cement glistened in the darkness, almost sparkling like miniature stars were embedded in it. He finally came to dark brown grass leading up to a black gate.

Izuku walked into the property, wading through mist hanging in the grass, wrapping around the engraved stones. He finally came to a large rock, words carved onto it by a shaky hand. There wasn't a hole beneath it, it wasn't even a proper tombstone. Just a large rock a sixteen year old boy had taken a carving knife to. Izuku bent down to kneel at the rock and stared at it blankly. He didn't even feel anything as he looked at his mother's grave.