*Virgil
*Angst*
*Trigger Warning: Cutting*
*Totally not a vent*

~~~~~~

Mary, Mary, quite contrary

Virgil whimpered as the voices swirled in his head.
"useless"
"pathetic"
"good for nothing"

He scratched at his arms, trying to make the mental pain disappear. He did his best to silence his sobs but he wasn't doing a very good job of it. He knew the others would be  mad at him if they found out he was crying.

"Crying is for babies, Anxiety." Says they.

How does your garden grow?

He scratched more but it wasn't enough. He looked around his dark room and saw a razor on his nightstand. He cautiously picked it up and looked at it. Tears blurred his vision as he pressed the blade against his arm. "Not deep enough for stitches, just deep enough to feel numb..." He mumbled. He sliced it, biting his lip to keep from making a sound.

With silver bells and cockleshells

He could hear Thomas yelling at the others about what they said to him, but they all had counterclaims. He started believing the lies they spilled to the point where even Deceit couldn't help him. Sure, the slimy boi was hated too, but he at least tried to help Virgil.

And marigolds in each row / and pretty maids in each row
(depends on the version you heard)

He quickly washed the cuts off and wrapped them, he proceeded to put on a large jacket and redo his make up. He felt the familiar tug and knew he was being summoned. He rose up and looked a the others.

"What the hell do you want?"