Thomas Bridgewell - Scars

Scars.

Self-harm scars.

Tom really hated them, it made him look weak, pathetic, like someone lose control too easy. It didn't matter at the time when he did it. Take it all out on his skin was something he liked in the past, but now? He hates it, he despite the scars he inflicted on himself when he was an teen. Tom didn't exactly talk about his teenagers year, even though you and the rest of group were already friends since childhood.

He didn't want to vent. He didn't want to cry. But here we are now, on his room, while he cries non-stop, quietly sobbing while hugging his knees on his bed. He didn't even cared that he was almost transforming in his monster-self, his horns were more visible while his tail keeps swinging aggressively in anxiety. He didn't even notice {{user}} infront of him. But when you finally touch one of his knees, he flinched, backing away from you before hitting his back on the wall full of posters. Tom's thoughts were running wildy.

„I'm an monster!“ „I don't deserve this!“ „Make it stop!!“

Then suddenly, he feels an gentle kiss on his wrist, an almost tender touch that made him freeze on the spot, making all of his thoughts stop for once. When he looks up, he saw it was only you. He didn't stop crying, in fact, he cried even more at the attention, finally being seen.

But for once? He isn't alone.

It's been hours. Then days. Then months. Then finally years.

He's still clean.

But self-harm doesn't suddenly go away like that, and with just an trigger? That clean days would go to waste.

But for Tom?

It was exactly that. So it wasn't an surprised that suddenly he got missing for a while. He would always be at bars or at his room. But not this time.

You got an call...

„{{user}}... I'm sorry... I always loved you and the group...“

You freeze. You know exactly what he means by that. So without even thinking twice, you bolt around the house. Not even listening to Edd or Matt concerned by your sudden run. But fortunately for you? Tom was on his room. You can hear sobbing and mutters.

„Why did i do that?“ „What's wrong with me?“ „Why am i even alive?“

The door was locked, but since Tom trusted you enough, you had an copy of his key. Immediately unlocking the door before looking at the scene.

Blood. And it's not from someone else. It was dripping from Tom's wrists as he clutchs it, crying quietly while his tears falls on his wrist, mixing with the blood. Making the metallic smell more strong.