Chapter 2

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I was taking notes and listening to Aizawa drone on about today's topic when I got a buzz on my phone. I carefully took it out of my backpack and slipped it into my desk when no one was looking. I opened my messages app to see that the text was sent by my dad, my heart raced as my anxiety spiked, this can't be good. I nervously tapped my foot and tried not to think about the horrible scenarios running through my head. I slipped my phone back into my bag and raised my hand to ask if I could go to the bathroom. Once I was handed the bathroom pass, I took my bag and dashed down the hallway locking myself in a stall when I arrived at the boy's bathroom. With a nervous hand, I took my phone out of my backpack and looked at the text.

Endeawhore: I received your report card and decided we will add an extra training session on Saturdays, I expect you to do better.

Uh-oh, wonderful, more "training". More excuses for him to hit me and say that he is doing it for my benefit. Great, I am so going to get it when I get home.

My wrists started to itch and I got that feeling again. My mind started to race and thoughts clouded my head making it impossible to think straight. Voices tared at my mind. You deserve it, he is only doing it because you are too weak, he wouldn't have to do this if you just acted better, if you had just gotten better grades, or done better during his "lessons" . . . This is all your fault.

I shakily took out the blade that I got from an old pencil sharpener, I needed to cut. Sure, it probably isn't the best habit, but I needed it. It made me feel better.

I pulled up my sleeve and raised it to my skin, my wrists were already littered with cuts and white scares of all kinds.

Slice, I felt the cool metal on my skin when I added another cut to the collection. I looked at it, small beads of shining red like liquid rubies were starting to form along the cut.

Slice, I made another, this time deeper, I waited and watched the blood come up, there wasn't a lot because I was using a sharpener instead of an actual box cutter.

Slice, I did it again, the sharp, familiar sting of the blade starting to calm me down. I continued until I needed to get out of the bathroom, my classmates were already probably getting suspicious. I cleaned everything up and wrapped the new cuts with some bandages I carried in my bag, but when I stood up, a couple of black dots danced in my vision. I ignored them and pulled down my sleeves, grabbing my bag so I could exit the bathroom.

When I got back everyone was asking why I had taken so long, I just brushed them aside and sat back down at my desk wincing at the stinging in my wrist. I put my attention back on the board disregarding the weird glance I got from Bakugo.

When I got home that day I finished my homework before my dad got back and became angry.

* * *

Sitting on the floor all beat up I looked at the food sitting on my desk, Fuyumi had brought some to my room for me but I just looked at it. I wanted it, I wanted to eat it so bad, but I didn't. My brain and body wouldn't let me. I hated myself for this feeling, I hated myself for letting Fuyumi bring it to me, I hate myself for being so f****** self-centered because I care, and I hated myself for still wanting it. I finally stood up and flushed the cold soba down the toilet bringing the empty bowl to Fuyumi telling her how delicious it was.

After I got back to my room I stepped on the scale in my bathroom for the fourth time that day. Still not good enough, I tell myself staring into the mirror. Probably never will be you self centered brat.

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