Work Text:
Blood.
Blood.
Blood.
Cuts.
Cuts.
Cuts.
That’s all she could think about. She needed that pain. And she needed it now.
But she’d made a promise. She was getting better. She wanted to get better. Didn’t she?
Didn’t going to all of that therapy and taking those medications prove that Ally wanted to get better?
She did.
She wanted to. But she couldn’t take it. She needed to bleed. She needed to hurt.
Ice. Ice, she’d get the ice. That was supposed to work, wasn’t it?
And she’d try to watch a movie. One of her favourites.
So, at that, Ally went downstairs to the freezer and grabbed an ice pack from the top drawer.
Went into the living room. Turned on the tv. Put on Tangled. Put the ice pack in between her legs.
The cold stung. But it wasn’t enough. She just had to wait a bit, yeah. Yeah.
Then it would work.
She wouldn’t want to bleed.
To hurt.
So she waited.
For a relief and content that never came.
It helped. But she still needed it.
So.
She did it.
Scissors. They were in the top drawer, with the cutlery.
If you dig them hard enough into your skin and drag. You bleed.
And hurt.
And she wanted that. She needed that.