With his Heart pounding, and sweat running down his face he places the thin blade onto his pale wrist, ready to cut deep into his flesh

it will make me feel better

He thinks.

It will take my pain

He knows that it wont. No one can take his pain. It'll just make him forget everything for a second.

Tears falling down his soft Cheeks, he puts a little bit of pressure onto the blade, causing it to sink into his skin.

It hurts. But not as much as he is Hurting deep down.

Ready to pull and cut along his wrist, he hears a knock on the wooden bathroom door

"Harry, we're about to leave, everything is already in the Truck. Are you ready to go?"

Panic. Panic rises in him.

He loosens his hand, the pressure falls of the blade.

"Yeah, just give me 5 minutes", he answers, hearing his Mom going Downstairs again.

With his hands shaking he puts the blade back into the little package, shoving it into his back pocket.

He takes a look in the mirror. His eyes Bloodshot from all the crying, his curls messy.

Not wanting to see himself anymore, he walks to the Door and unlocks it with a twist.
His eyes focused on his wrist, he sees the little cut he couldn't get to finish

He steps out of the bathroom, leaves the house and gets into the car.

Fuck

He thinks.

I just want to die.

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A really short chapter for the start, I know hehe