Sometimes it feels like all you’re capable of doing is hurting. There was always someone mad or disappointed in you no matter what you did, even before when you still had the slime. Life was a lot easier when you couldn’t concentrate or even think straight, but now that there’s none left life seems a lot less appealing. Everyone around you is constantly wound up and tense and it’s only now that you realized it. Being on your own is what’s best for everyone, you wont bug them and they wont bug you.
Everything gives you a headache now too. You’re not even sure how much more of this you’ll be able to stand, but you’re trying your best. Your friends need you, all of them, even the ones that are already dead. You miss them but you try not to linger on the thoughts because if you do your insides start to boil and you crave blood.
Karkat likes to yell at everyone and that didn’t bother you before but now it does. His voice is too loud, too stressed, too high-pitched for your ears; every time he yells you want to grab his throat and squeeze until he doesn’t even gasp for breath. The thoughts scare you and you don’t know what to do to make them go away, but what you do know is that when you hurt nobody else has to. When you hide yourself away in the room they told you was yours, the only troll there is to hurt is you.
You’re okay with that. Better you than someone you love, right? Even in your dreams all you can think about is gutting them, tearing them apart, collecting heads. You don’t like it but you’re too stupid to figure out how to change it, even with all this new awareness you’ve got. So instead of tearing Karkat in half you drag your claws down your chest, digging them in deep. The feeling is amazing; the sting overwhelms everything else but under that you can feel your nails scrape over bone and you can feel your skin split.
It’s refreshing and mind-blowing and almost as good as the high you used to constantly have. Better, even, in that it’s more vivid and doesn’t make you stupid. You miss all the colors and the soft feelings but you like being able to have coherent thoughts more. You look down at your new wounds and grin to yourself, watching indigo stain your skin. You lift your arm up and press your thumbnail down into your forearm a few times, marvelling at how twig-like your arms are.
Bleeding makes you feel comfortable and warm, and best of all, you can paint while you feel good. Your paintings are even better now because you can really, really focus on them, and they litter your walls and floor all over the room. There’s hardly any space that’s not covered in your own blood. Most of it is morbid, pictures of everyone you know being dead or dying, including yourself and goatdad, but it’s not all grim.
There are a few pictures of Tavros and you, of Nepeta, Terezi, Karkat… happy times. Your favorite is one that’s on the wall next to you now; you like to sit by it and stare at it once all the bad feelings are drained out of you. Maybe one day he wont be so disgusted by you anymore. It’s another picture of Karkat, only he’s got a soft smile and is as happy as can be, and he’s playing with your horns and there are pretty bug things all around. It took you hours to get the details down but you hardly remember, you just like how good it came out and how he looks.
When you were done your murder mode rampage Karkat was the one who made sure everyone left you alone. At first you tried to be friendly with them, and you still are, but now you know how tense and uncomfortable you make everyone. So long as they know where you are everyone is happy, and if that place that you are isn’t anywhere near them it’s all for the better. You can’t blame them.
[tbh?]
