warnings: self harm
age: 15
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Y/N's POV
It's no doubt that all the things I've been through, with everything that everyone has said and done, would make me angry.
I just didn't know that said anger would be constant. Literally never-ending. I'm just angry all the time.
And there's some people that just ruin everything. It may sound like the most selfish thing ever, but they don't deserve the sort of good treatment that life hands them. They deserve pain. They deserve suffering. It makes me seem like a terrible person for wishing these things on someone else, but they did terrible things to me.
A life without them in it would be better, in my opinion.
Maybe that's just the autistic rage wishing for such deadly things to occur to them - I can't help it. Some people are just so easy to wish bad things upon, they make it easy.
The anger within sometimes gets so intense that the only way to release it is pressing down and dragging that blade across my arm multiple times until it feels like I can breathe again. It's like all the pressure in my chest is just... released.
Right now, I've just found my release via my most common method.
The crimson blood drips down onto the tiles of my bathroom floor, where I sit with my back against the wall, breathing in the sweet relief.
When does this ever end? The anger, the hurt?
Does it ever end?
"Y/N..."
I look up to see my mama staring down at me in horror, as she too watches the red droplets cascade down my arm and onto the floor.
It feels awful, but it feels so, so good.
Yet, have I just thrown away my longest clean streak when it comes to cutting? Yes.
But it's all I knew to do.
"Oh... oh, my... my baby," mama gasps before grabbing the nearest towel and kneeling down beside me and pressing it to my arm to stop the bleeding. "What have you done, Y/N?"
The real question is, what has everyone else done to me? I did this because of them, it's their fault.
"I fucking... hate you," I whisper faintly, needing to just blame someone, anyone. And I choose the one person I trust the most in life.
"Hey now," mama furrows her eyebrows. "Have I done something to upset you?"
I just turn my head away, I can't face her or I will lash out.
"Y/N?" she tries again. "Baby, please talk to me, I'm really worried about you."
"... Please, sweetheart?"
It's in this moment that she places her hand on my cheek to guide my head to look at her, but the suddenness of her touch only angers me further.
Before I can think about my actions, I slap her hand off of me harshly, causing her to quickly draw it back in and wince loudly.
"Okay, my love, it's okay," she soothes me. "I'm not mad. I'm just trying to help you, I'm on your side here. Now come here and let me hold you."
With that, she brings me into her arms, providing me with the safe space to feel my feelings.
But again, it gets physical as I start hitting her back over and over, progressively getting more violent and harsh. Yet she doesn't move. She just lets out quiet pained sounds and allows me to take my anger out on her.
It's too much. I don't want to be this angry anymore.
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jokes on me for thinking i was doing better hahaha
not proofread