Deep cuts

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Story request for @taylorsking Based on the song "Baby don't cut" with a slight twist.

TW: Self harm, suicide attempt

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Some things are only tempting when it's dark, silent, and you're alone. That was something Taylor realized when she was 21 years old. It was something that was mounting over the last five months. At meetings, she'd been getting bullied, harassed, ridiculed, and now, completely isolated. She wanted to tell someone, but she'd always been kind of drawn in and was too afraid to tell. What if it got worse? They weren't hurting her anymore, but she was still heavily isolated, and it all hurt nevertheless.

So now, with her family all out and just herself and her thoughts, she has the gradual beginnings of a horribly dangerous idea. What if she finally let out some pain? Her friends won't be returning until tomorrow, and her bodyguard wasn't on call tonight. This was how she found herself holding a knife to his inner thigh. Somewhere no one will see, and where it'll hurt a lot. Her hand trembled near imperceptibly as she brought the small knife to her skin, applied a small amount of pressure, and cut downward. She hissed as it began to sting and watched as blood began to well up. Taylor's first cutting session lasted 25 minutes. At that time, a she cut himself 10 times and cried for an hour afterward. After she bandaged herself, she swore she wouldn't do it again.

That was a lie.

When Taylor was 25, she stopped cutting. Nothing made her, and no one noticed. She was finally happy. She had met the most gorgeous British man who treated her right and made sure she was always ok. She forgot she ever used to cut, eventually. After 3 years, many of the scars were faded, and her pain a phantom that she rarely acknowledged. Again, it would prove to be when she was alone, and in the quiet darkness, that unresolved things always return.

It was now June 2016, and the dreaded day began she went on twitter seeing the sudden flow of tweets calling her a slut, whore, bitch, serial dater, liar, and pathetic excuse of a person. She knew the clowns had released a fake phone call, and she had no one to turn to. All her friends were now enemies in a split second her whole life changed. She was sent into a mental panic. All of the pain, all of the time alone in the dark, and the overbearing silence of his room. All of it returned at once and suffocated her. As her emotions mounted, she found himself leaning back on old habits. She scratched the spot where some old scars remained and looked around the room for a sharp object. Something to pierce, something to release.

No. She couldn't do this. Not again.

The darkness was closing in and she knew it was only a matter f seconds before her instincts would take over. So she did the one thing she wouldn't be able to forgive herself for if she left this world without doing.

With a shaking hand she grabbed her buzzing phone closing out of all the hate and typing what might be her final message to her lover.

"I hope you know I love you, and I believe in you please never forget that. Goodnight Love." Sent.

On the other side of town Joe was going through his notifications starting with his favourite person. He smiled at his girlfriends name on his phone, thinking it was a sweet message and sending goodnight back to his lover.

Taylor eventually found an envelope opener from work. She used it to cut some of the parts on her stomach. Nothing deep, and nothing too big, buts he found watching them bleed hypnotic. Her eyes traced the lines they made down her body with a look of infatuation. She should never have opened Instagram. That was the worst of them all. The videos and pictures of her being edited and spread around caught on like wildfire. It was official she was the most hated person.

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