YOU'RE GONNA GO FAR - MIRACULOUS

CHAPTER TWO

scared of my guitar

"this is normal conversation, babe, it's all fine."

distract myself, say it's something else.
maybe im just overwhelmed.
maybe im confused?

it was beginning to get bad again.

the first time - adrien hated himself specifically. he hated himself, because maybe if he hadn't given up trying to convince his dad to take his mom to the doctor, she'd still be alive. he hated God, because He had to choice to heal his mother but didn't. he hated his dad, because he distanced himself from adrien when all he specifically needed in that moment of sadness and grief was just a loving father. a father who cried and hugged him whenever his brain was convincing him it was all his fault. he needed a father who didn't act like he was practically dead as well, forcing Adrien to grieve over a person who was still alive. he was already busy grieving his mother, he didn't need to miss his dad too.

the first time - he laid in his bed all the time, not bothering to deal with the world. wishing God would take him away just like He took away his mother. he didn't eat. he told nathalie he was simply 'not hungry' - which, was technically the truth. he was sure if he'd try to eat anything he wouldn't be able to stomach it and he constantly felt sick. he hated that feeling. the feeling of immense hunger yet a pit all at the same time. he didn't know how to deal with it, so, he didn't eat.

he passed out a total of 3 times before nathalie would begin to force food in his mouth.

the first time - he'd hurt himself. not always accidental, no. he hadn't meant to pick at his lips so badly to the point it hurt to speak. it burned so, so bad. he hated reaching up and feeling the warmth of his own blood on his fingertips. but, it didn't stop him. he began to become conscious of the fact he was picking at his nails and hands, conscious of the consequences. he started craving it. the pain of peeling away his skin. it hurt so, so bad. but felt so, so good. he hated looking down at his hands and seeing the disgustingness of what was once his fingernails. he hated looking at other people's hands; clean and polished, not a single mark. but, no matter how aware he was he never stopped. some habits are simply unbreakable.

not ALWAYS accidental; he said.

he knew when he was opening that can with that knife, even though the can opener was in the drawer right next to him, one simple slip up and he wouldn't have a hand anymore.

he missed his pinky by a goddamn centimeter.

but i keep thinking i'll find a cure.
i say that "i'm fine,"
i tell you all the time,
"i've never felt so happy and sure."

the second time - he was beginning to hate everybody else. he was starting to despise all of his friends, dreading answering their texts and hating how he had to see them every morning at school. he was starting to hate ladybug. hating going to patrol, akuma attacks, hating seeing who was once the genuine love of his life replace him with all those stupid, STUPID HEROES. they didn't NEED THEM. they could handle akumas perfectly well all by themselves, they didn't need a group of FUCKING 30 THOUSAND PEOPLE TO DEFEAT ONE.