silent slicer

Every morning, he would rise with a heavy heart, regretting the moment he opened his eyes, yearning for an eternal slumber. Yet, when he did awaken, he adorned himself with layers, hiding his true self from the world. Each day, he would confront his reflection in the mirror, searching for answers. As soon as everyone departed, he would lock the door behind them, retrieving a serrated steak knife. With trembling hands, he would carve into his upper arms, releasing the pain that consumed him. Cleansing the wounds with soap and alcohol, he allowed them to scar, patiently awaiting their healing. Initially, the burning and stinging sensations tormented him, but gradually, the agony subsided, leaving behind a numbing emptiness. written by After Death_XXX