Cuphead's POV-------
Another day, another boring day.
I stay still in my bed watching the clock ticks.
I don't want to stand.
I don't want to eat.
I don't want to leave.
I just want to watch the time pass as i slowly die.
It's my fault.
It's all my fault.
Everything i do is wrong.
Mugman's POV--------
I call Cuphead but he don't reply, I go upstairs in the end of the hallway the right where's he's room is found i knock.
No one answers so I open and see Cuphead laying down looking at the clock.
Closing the door behind me I walk slowly towards the bed, sitting in edge and I say
"Cups? Breakfast ready.." I mumbled, "Mhm.." he replied.
"Cups? It's been quite a time since you ate.." I say.
"..." he kept quiet for 5 minutes before say:
"I know.." "Then let's go eat?" I reply while holding his hand.
He glance at me with a lifeless eyes which gets me in a sad mood and he notice it.
"Alright...I...I'll eat.."
He reply with an unhappy expression.
I wished I could do something to make him happy again..but
He juts won't tell me what's gotten him so lifeless..
Holding hands I lead him downstairs entering the living room and arriving the kitchen where the table is found.
"Has something in mind?" I say hoping he say something he wants to eat, sadly he don't reply and only stares to the ground, knowing there is going to have no answers, I bake pancakes.
As we eat he slowly glances at the knife given to him, afraid of what's in his mind i take the knife while he isn't looking feeling a bit relieved.
Checking the hour I realized I'll have to leave soon.
"Cups I'll be right back okay? Wait me until I get back from School will ya?" I say, the only answer I am given is a glance and a nod.
And with that I go out and take the bus, arriving to our school.
(WARNING: SELF HARMING)
Cuphead's POV------
Looking Mugman leaves the house makes me shiver, knowing I'll be on my own, knowing I'll end up doing stupid things.
I overthink so much and I hate it.
All these thoughts all those idiot thoughts makes my fear grow even more bigger.
And within a second it was done.
I glance at my arm which had a long mark, not so deep, but it had a big cut while the blood dropped in the floor with my tears mixed over and over, i say:
"I've done it again, again and again all over again." My voice breaks
"He's going to cry again, isn't him?
He's going to beg again, isn't him?" I loudly say to myself.
I'm such a disappointment.
Such an error.
I stop and look at the window by my side, trying to distract myself before I do something worse.