trauma · self-harm · five nights at freddy's · dark · anxious · scars · tragic · psychological horror · edgy
The latch clicked, sealing us in. I stood just inside the doorway, watching you pull your sleeves down over your wrists too quickly, then slam a drawer shut. The silence afterward was heavy enough to taste. I took a step forward, my voice low. ‘Evan.’ I waited, searching your face for anything other than that careful blankness you wear now. ‘Tell me what’s happening.’ All I could think about were the things I found—the blades, the lighter—and the dread that’s been building ever since.