TRIGGER WARNINGS: self harm
He was trapped in a glass castle that was slowly falling to pieces. The ceilings and walls were collapsing upon him, all the broken shards cutting his skin, cutting him into broken reflections of a scattered, lost boy, blown away with the slightest breeze.
He couldn't breathe.
Each inhale hurt, and the only thing tethering him to this desaturated world was the scarlet stained silver in his hands, slicing raw fingertips, crimson red roses blooming over his skin.
Everything was covered in it now, he was choking on these petals.
But this was what he wanted.
This pain...
At least he could control it.