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Ragatha was pacing around her room, occasionally tugging on her hair. Everyone else had gone to their rooms for the night. Meanwhile, she was remembering everything. Everything that had gone wrong that week. It didn’t feel bad enough for her to complain though. She wished it was. She wished it was worse, so she’d feel justified. She wished Jax was truly an awful person who went against everything she stood for and had no reason for his actions. Then she wouldn’t feel guilty for being mad at him.
She buried her face in her hands at the thought of wishing it was worse. Others were truly struggling, and here she was, freaking out over not getting along with someone and having a rough…week? Month? Couple of years? She couldn’t remember quite how long she’d been feeling this way.
She ran her hand over the scars on her wrists and arms. A while ago, Caine had given them an arts and crafts adventure. Ragatha had forgotten she was holding onto a pencil sharpener, and only realized when she was back in the circus. A week later, she’d been feeling horrible. She found the pencil sharpener, still sitting on a shelf in her room, and unscrewed the blade. She’d been doing her best to stop, and luckily, the scars weren’t as noticeable anymore, if you didn’t know they were there.
She’d been doing so well, but was tempted to do it again. She reached for the pencil sharpener, when there came a knock on her door. She snapped out of her thoughts and mentally slapped herself for almost letting herself do such a thing.
She took a deep breath, ready to help the person who came to her, if needed. She opened the door and saw Pomni standing there, fidgeting with the bells on her hat.
“Hey, Ragatha.” Pomni gave her a friendly, yet awkward smile. “I…wanted to check in on you. You’ve seemed…well, lately you just haven’t seemed like yourself.”
Ragatha blinked. Sure, she often imagined herself venting to Kinger or Pomni and being comforted, but she hadn’t expected either of them to come and talk to her about it. She was sure she’d been doing a well enough job at seeming ok. But then, she remembered how she was always dropping hints, whether she noticed it or not.
She nodded at Pomni, trying to stay in the present. “I’m fine, Pomni. But thanks for asking. I’m glad you care,” she added at the end, making sure Pomni knew how much she appreciated it.
As she closed the door, Pomni seemed to make up her mind about something and said, “you know, Ragatha, you can always talk to me. I’m happy to listen—I want to listen. I know something’s going on, and I want to know.”
“I’m fine,” Ragatha repeated without thinking. It seemed like her first instinct was always to tell people she was ok.
Pomni took another breath to speak, but decided against it. “Ok…good night, then. But just know, if you change your mind, I’m here,” she promised.
Ragatha smiled. That would be nice, she thought, she wants to hear about this. But she nodded and said “alright, thanks. Good night Pomni.”
Another week passed. Almost every night, Pomni came to Ragatha’s room, asking to talk. And every time, Ragatha would say she was fine or too tired to talk.
Ragatha really was tired, though. Of everything. She curled up into a ball on her bed, letting the thoughts surround her. She looked over at her shelf. It’ll be fine, she thought to herself, just a few cuts.
Before she could get up from her bed, there was a knock at the door. No doubt it was Pomni again. She trudged to the door. Her vision was fuzzy. She blinked a few times, trying to get her brain focused. She opened the door to see Pomni once again.
“Ragatha, we need to talk. Please,” she stated firmly.
“Pomni, you don’t need to check up on me every night, I’m fine.” As Ragatha closed the door, Pomni put out her arm and took Ragatha’s hand.
“Rags, you’re not fine. You’re obviously about to cry, you haven’t been yourself lately, and you’ve been sleeping in late and nearly missing the adventures.”
Ragatha thought about that for a moment. She didn’t think she had been that close to crying. She didn’t think she had been acting noticeably different, and she didn’t even realize she was nearly missing adventures. No one said anything.
“...so can I come in?” Pomni asked. Ragatha nodded. They sat down on her bed.
They sat there in silence for a minute, Pomni occasionally taking a breath to speak, then deciding not to.
Eventually she began, “Ragatha, I know something’s wrong. I can’t stand knowing that there’s something going on but not knowing what it is. I want to help.”
After a few moments, Ragatha gave up and started explaining. “I’ve just…been feeling bad lately. I don’t know. I’ve been wanting to…well, to hurt myself again—”
“Again?” Pomni interrupted. “What do you mean, ‘again’?” By the look on her face, Pomni already knew exactly what Ragatha meant.
Ragatha, without noticing, glanced at the shelf where she kept her pencil sharpener. Pomni followed her gaze and tensed up. Ragatha noticed the jester scratching at her thighs like she did when she was anxious, stressed, overwhelmed, or whatever other emotions. Ragatha put a hand on Pomni’s arm and shook her head.
Pomni jerked away slightly, just as when anyone tried to touch her. She didn’t acknowledge it though, she just resumed talking. “Ragatha…how long ago was it?”
Ragatha thought for a moment, before replying, “I last did it around two months before you got here. It’s been a while.”
Pomni seemed to notice the faded scars on the ragdoll’s arms. She gently took Ragatha’s hand in hers, while still observing the scars.
Ragatha blinked. Pomni almost never liked physical touch, and avoided it as much as she could. After noticing what Pomni was looking at, she cleared her throat. “They’re old, don’t worry about it,” she assured.
“But you wanted to make new ones,” Pomni quavered, her voice just above a whisper. “Isn’t that what you were just saying?”
Ragatha didn’t answer, so Pomni kept talking. “I know how hard it can be to ask for help, and I’m not gonna force you to never do it again. But…I want to be able to help you when you have those thoughts, so you don’t have to resort to that.”
There was another pause, and Pomni asked in a small voice, “can I…can I hug you? Would that…be ok?”
Ragatha, who, once again, was taken aback by Pomni being ok with being touched, responded with “yeah, that’s…yeah.”
Ragatha buried her head in Pomni’s shoulder. She didn’t even notice at first that she was crying.
Pomni pulled away, still holding on to Ragatha’s hand. “So…do you want me to help you? I don’t want to force anything onto you.”
Ragatha nodded. “If you know anything that could help, I’d love to hear what you think.”
“I remember people used to tell me I do a form of self harm,” Pomni began. “They called it ‘pain stimming'.’ It’s stuff like…banging my head on things. Or scratching and biting myself. So I understand how it feels—that urge. Maybe we can both learn how to deal with it. Together?”
She looked up at Ragatha who was smiling now. “Yeah. Together. That sounds good.”