It didn’t take much, to cover up the small cuts, hiding the bandages, underneath his sleeve.
He had done this before, it wasn’t as if this was new to him, it wasn’t as if he the sting of the razor digging into his flesh was a foreign feeling, and the blood trickled down that followed after was a new sensation, he didn’t flinch, he didn’t cry. He didn’t turn his head away in shame or disgust, he didn’t feel. It didn’t take much, to cover up the small cuts, hiding the bandages, underneath his sleeve. He found beauty in it, He found it romantic... He sometimes thought he was a coward, maybe that why it was so romantic because he was waiting for that someone to come along and help him stand up tall. But, Ryan knew he couldn’t do it alone, He was waiting for Mr. Right but that’s all he ever did. He waited for someone to ask him to notice him to cherish him he even waited for that person to Help him. But it never came. The boy who waited.
He wouldn’t deny it if you asked him, he would be lying so there was no point in trying to hide from what he was; unhappy. He wasn’t ashamed of the cuts on his arms and legs, no Ryan wasn’t even ashamed of the suicide attempt last summer, he just wouldn’t tell you. In some ways he was scared, scared of himself and others and what they would do. Because he didn’t honestly care what they thought of him, he was afraid, no not afraid, terrified of what they would try to do to him. Would they try and help him? maybe they would even try to fix him, would they try and take away his razors and bandage up the scars but isn’t that what he wanted?
Sometimes, Ryan thought he was a bit sadistic, sometimes when he got the razor out and got ready to slice his skin a smile would play at his lips, he knew he shouldn’t enjoy this but he did. Ryan sometimes thought he was a naughty to treat himself to such a reward as cutting, because he didn’t deserve the escape. His father had told him on numerous occasions that Ryan was pathetic, worthless, selfish as well as waste of space and ultimately the cause of his Mother’s death.
So as the razor cut the skin he pushed it deeper than it had been before, exploring the skin underneath that hadn’t been touched before as a punishment for trying to escape. Ryan didn’t know why he did it, because every time the razor cut skin a little piece of him died. Maybe it was to get a reaction out of himself, or maybe it was to get a reaction out of those around him, but it never came. He didn’t see himself stopping though in some ways he felt it kept him sane, little did he know.
Ryan would eventually give up looking for the Mr. Right and that would be when he finally knew that he was a lost cause. But if there was one thing for certain, he was Ryan Ross and he would not bide you adieu, just yet!
THANKYOU FOR WASTING TIME AND READING THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!