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On days like today, he couldn’t stand the sight of himself. The way his eyes linger on his imperfections for a little too long. The way he can feel his breathing starts to slowly dissipate. His body starts to tingle as though at any moment he might tip backward and vanish.
There has never been any need to talk to someone about his feelings. And it’s difficult to. He’s tried. And failed. And then never tried again. It’s always just an endless cycle. The feeling of hope that something will change. The feeling of being ready to become a new person, for it all just to go back to how it was.
Shouto can hear the voices of his thoughts just laughing at him. Of course, nothing will change. That is just how it is. Like they say, “kill yourself or get over it". But he disagrees. You always have the option of choosing the pathetic Shouto Todoroki way. Which is to make yourself so unrecognisable that you can’t make sense of your own actions anymore. Become a burden for everyone else. Take up so much room that you definitely don’t deserve. Being such a failure that even killing yourself is such a waste of everyone else’s time and space.
Kind of difficult to live up to those words when he can feel the cool breeze on the back of his neck. Feels kind of relaxing. Shouto always thinks one way but acts another. His father must be furious at him, his grades have been slipping too much as of late.
His feet feel free as they dangle. Shouto could probably guess that this fall would kill him. Beneath isn’t a busy street, not even in the daytime. He’s glad that no one will be affected by this.
Shouto knows that he doesn’t have a choice. He’s never had a choice. That’s what is so unfair.
He just wishes that once in his life things could be good. Spending time with friends doesn’t have to hurt so much, doesn’t have to make him feel so sick and pathetic and make him want to crawl out of his skin. This isn’t living anymore. This was never a life.
There is nothing past today. His life was never going to make it past today. He’s accepted that now. Finally.
He wishes he left some type of letter for someone. Anyone. But would they even read it?
On days like today, he couldn’t stand himself. Now he’s falling.