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The Eccedenteciast

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Tenma was known as a bubbly and happy person. He rarely showed any emotion of negativity, nor did he want others to feel negative. You could say he's a happy-go-lucky boy. Though...is that really him on the inside ?

It was one of those days where soccer practice was cancelled due to rain. No matter the plea of some of the soccer members, no one can change the mind of their Coach, saying it'll for sure make one or two people sick. It was a bummer, really, but it was coach's orders; luckily happy brunette captain had assured everyone they were going to practice extra hard tomorrow to make up for today's loss of practice. And so off they all went back to their own homes, happy to at least be able to rest from school. Tenma, taking his usual route home with his friends, suddenly felt ever-so-growing....something inside him. It was not pain, it was not anger; rather, it was emptiness ??? Is that how you explain it ? No matter, it shouldn't be a feeling you'd have when you're with your friends and Tenma very well knew that.

 

That's why he needs to get home fast.

 

"E-Ehh...Aoi, Shinsuke, I forgot I had something really really important to do and I need to get home as fast as possible. See you tomorrow, you guys !" The boy suddenly exclaimed. Before the other two were given the chance to reply, he was already out of sight, sprinting as fast as his legs can run. "Whoo, Tenma sure is filled with energy ! Did you see him run ?" Shinsuke laughed. Aoi took a look at the direction the brunette midfielder ran off too and laughed along "Ahaha, right !"

 

"He sure is really energetic !"

 

----

 

"I need to get home faster...."

That was all Tenma had in mind. He didn't care if he slipped and dirtied his uniform. He didn't care if some of his things fell off his bookbag. He just needed to get home.

Finally, he saw the manor in which his aunt was running. With a sigh of relief he rushed in and slammed the door shut behind him. "...Finally...." He mumbled between pants.

Going up the stairs, he slowed his pace. His eyes drooped slightly in tiredness. For sure, this feeling was not something he should be feeling...unless the effects of that had completely vanished. Thus, Tenma went up to his room and closed the door before going through the deepest part of his closet. He made sure no one else will ever be able to see his secret stash in here...at least not until he was ready...The boy soon found the black box underneath piles of clothes, small and plain; unsuspicious.

He knew people would find out soon, but for a short while...he enjoyed just having such a dark secret to himself.

 

Swallowing the anti-depressant, he repeated the words in his head.

 

"No one should know...."

 

Tenma looked at the anti-depressant bottle in his hand, his heart finally slowing down its beats. It was nerve-wracking; the thought of his friends and family finding out that he was not the happy and bubbly kind of person they all thought he was. That he was not truly happy, full of joy and laughter like he had shown all this time...

Won't that make him a dirty liar ? A fraud ? He didn't want to think about it any longer as it gave him a headache.

The brunette put the bottle back into its box, and then to its hiding spot, covering it with the same piles of clothes to make it less suspicious. Then, he sighed and turned his head into his nightstand, where one picture stands.

 

It was a picture of him and his friends...all happy, smiling and full of bright joy....oh how he wished that smile plastered on his face was true. The reality was,, it was pure plastic.

 

Just plastic.

 

From how much his mind is clouded by his imaginary judgement of himself, he didn't even notice the tears streaming down his face, salty. Like a waterfall, full of strong waves, his tears kept flowing out.

"I wish I was not like this...."

"I wish I was normal...."

"I wish I was free...."

 

That was what he told himself everyday ever since he was diagnosed with depression.

 

Tenma had decided that it was enough thinking. He was tired, his mentality was broken and all he wanted was to refresh himself. Standing up, he went to the bathroom after picking out his night clothes and began his nightly routine. It was the usual; shower, brush his teeth, wash his face and done. Even though it's so easy to just do those things in a matter of several minutes; there were multiple things slowing him down, even in the bathroom. The boy found looking in the mirror hard to do. Unlike how one person would think when they see themselves in the mirror, all he could think of whenever he saw his reflection was....disgusting. Seeing his bare body whilst showering was harder and tears stung his eyes whenever he did. Scars everywhere, from his arms to his legs....scratches here and there, it was like a disease on his skin that can't stop growing...

 

That he can't stop making.

 

It took him a while, a few tears and few new scratches but he made it out there, at least, still alive. The next few parts were a little more easier for the brunette. He could do his homework to distract himself of anything going on in his mind and keep answering and answering and answering. Eat the dinner left outside by Aki releases some tension going on in his brain. And sleeping, he could just pop a few sleeping pills in his mouth and be able to find peace in the dark, dreamless void that is his mind. It went by smoothly this time, there were some nights where he just wouldn't function properly at all. He would just stare at the wall.

Just stare.

And think.

And stare.

And think.

And when his brain was tired enough, he'd fall on the bed and fall asleep.

Tonight was pretty easy. Turning off his nightlight after a few minutes of playing on his phone and drinking the sleeping pills prescribed to him by the doctors, he turned to his side and let sleep overtake him.

 

 

...Except it didn't ? Why won't his mind let him sleep ? At least have peace ? Tenma sighed again....those sleeping pills do take some time to sink in and do it's effects.

 

Luckily, it was just leftover feelings from the past, so he knew the best (but not the healthiest) way to deal with it. Looking back to his nightstand, the first year opened his nightlight again to see better. Then, he opened his drawer and took the sharp razor from it's resting place underneath the notebooks he kept as diaries...his old friend. He played around with it with his fingers; feeling the sharp edge with a blank expression. The silver metal colour reflected the light from the nightlight and he could see his eyes from it, dull blue and lost of life. It was soothing...just looking at it. He knew it was not a good habit, and he should stop at some point but....just this night. Just one night. And he'll (probably) stop.

So, placing the small, sharp razor just on top of the skin of his arm; barely touching, the boy began to—
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Finally he was able to sleep.