Work Text:
basils room was empty, and quiet. the only sound was some sort of liquid dripping onto the hard, wooden floor. basil sighed quietly, the pain from the first few cuts kicking in. the razor that he had used was becoming more blunter with every cut he gave himself.
basil moved onto his other wrist, which was already covered in healing scars. he began to cut over the healing scars, making sure that they were re-opened, and they would stay that way for a while. he put the razor on his bed, beside him. he then laid down on his bed, his head resting on his soft pillows.
basil hated everything about himself. he hated his bpd. he hated his face. he hated his chest. he hated his thighs. he hated everything. sometimes he had wished that he was born as another person, which sounded stupid, but not for him. it sounded like paradise, wait, no, it sounded like heaven.
there was a knock on the door, which startled basil, but he just continued to lay there, staring up at the ceiling, numbly. the door creaked open. it was sunny. sunny looked down at basil, noticing the pile of blood on the floor. he carefully walked towards basil, lifting up his wrists. "jesus, basil." he sighed, helping basil up.
sunny picked up the razor, putting it in his pocket. he walked over to the light switch, turning the lights on. basil shielded his eyes from the blinding lights. sunny sighed, kneeling down in front of basil. basil was ashamed of what he had done. he never intended for this to happen. he just laid back down on the bed, his body succumbing to the immense pain. basil shut his eyes, praying that in another lifetime he was someone different. someone that didn’t have bpd. someone who didn’t fail.