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Clan Specialty : Ninjutsu
Village : Konohagakure
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Drowning the depression with broth and noodles Empty Drowning the depression with broth and noodles

Thu Jan 23, 2020 3:19 pm
“Good morning, son!” Snow’s father beckoned from the other side of Snow’s bedroom door. Snow woke up hours ago, staring at the ceiling, unable to move. “Great. One of these days.” Snow groaned as he finally gained the will to move his body and get out of his bed. He slunked over to the bathroom and he turned on the shower. The water was to the point of steaming the bathroom up in an instant, he slowly inserted his hand into the water, feeling the stinging of the water, it was far too hot. Which is how he liked the water when he had days like this. While he may have spent all of his days trying to be kind and sweet to other people, not very many people knew just what type of resentment that had grown within his own mind towards himself. 


His mind was full of self conscious thoughts about how he was deficient in one way or another. He was too tall, his body was too lengthy, he would go on like this for hours within his own mind. Even when speaking to others around him, he would be telling them to believe in themselves and that they had good in them. While he meant every word and he did have a gift of discernment, he was always able to see the good in others, just never able to see the good in himself. 


The water was continuing to spray out of the shower head. He undressed himself, showing his few scars that he had along his abdomen. There were times that his depression got a little too much for him to handle and he felt that he had no other option. So he would carve X’s into his sides, right next to his hip bones. This would grant him a sensation of feeling, rather than the bland emptiness that he would wake with. The worst part of his depression is he never knew when or even why the feeling would come. They would come up during random conversation, upon waking up for the day, or even trying to sleep. During his training sessions were the absolute worst because it would make him lose all of his will to actually train. 


He would carve into his sides because in his mind, he felt that the pain he would feel, was far less painful than the inability to feel anything at all. The water was hot on his skin. To the point that it felt that someone was pouring boiling water on his back. He gripped onto the grab bar that was on the side of the shower stall. He knew that he could just turn it off, but then the emptiness would return. He gritted his teeth and bared the pain a little longer. Finally when he felt that he had enough, he would turn the heat down on the water slightly so he could actually wash his body. He hated the fact that he felt the need for self mutilation and torture was the only way he could get through these episodes, but it was the only thing that would help him. 


After he was done washing his body, he turned off the water and grabbed his towel. He walked out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror. He looked at the X’s in his skin, debating within his mind on whether or not he needed to carve another. He didn’t want to, he wanted to get away from this habit, but the knife was beckoning to him. Practically calling him to do it once again. He fought the temptation for a few minutes, trying to keep his mind busy with brushing his teeth and playing music in his ears. Nothing he did worked, he could hear the knife’s calling through anything he would use to block out the thoughts. Nothing ever worked to get his mind off of the beckoning, the calling of the pain. The need to feel was certainly something he never understood how someone  who was in fact alive with an active brain, could feel nothing at all. 


Finally, he gave in. He walked over to his vanity, he gripped the knife’s handle, at first his knuckles were white, the last bit of him was trying to convince himself not to do it. But that small part of him would finally give in and his hands would calm his grip on the knife’s handle. He flipped the knife to be pointing towards himself and he slowly punctured his skin, just to the side of his left hip bone. The sensation would rush through his body, granting him an odd mix of feelings of both pain and relief. He slid the knife’s blade across his waist, only a few centimeters at a time, allowing the pain to be slow and long lasting. His other hand was holding himself up by being placed on the vanity, currently shaking from the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins. 


When he was finally done with the first cut, he looked into the mirror. He was disgusted with himself, he couldn’t stand the sight of what he had done to himself as he tried to stop the bleeding. He had been caught once before, by his mother. She walked into his room when he was cutting in the second line of the X. She tried stopping him, but she didn’t want him to accidentally cut himself too deep. When he was done, she helped him stop the bleeding, he was still pretty new at that point, so he cut himself too deep and he was losing consciousness. When he finally came back to full cognizance, he and his mother had a long talk about his depression. She gave him a hug and held him for almost an hour, he had cried himself to sleep in her arms. She called his father into the room, and he carried Snow into his bed. Snow slept for a few hours, through the rest of the day, and woke up at dinner time. 


His father was never very good at handling depression and anxiety, so he always pawned it off on his mother. That is, until she was gone. The day that his father went into his depression over Snow’s mother’s passing, he actually asked him if he was still cutting himself. He, knowing what his father was going through, lied and told him that he wasn’t. Truth be told, he was cutting more than ever before at that time. He would be cutting up to four to five times a day, when the depression and emptiness became too much for him. Luckily, he had been able to trim that down to just once every couple of days. 


Finally the bleeding had stopped, and it was time for him to complete the X. He tried to shake off the excess adrenaline that was causing his hands to shake. Once his hands finally steadied, he heard his father call out to him on the other side of the bedroom door. “You awake son! I got breakfast on the table, it’s getting cold!” Snow quickly responded. “Yeah I’m awake. I’ll be out in just a minute dad!” Snow knew that he didn’t have much time, so he grabbed his knife once more, and had it slowly penetrate his skin. The pain and adrenaline were back, but he was breathing through it, trying to keep his hands steady. When he was finally done with the second line in his X on his waist. 


When Snow had finally stopped the bleeding on the X on his waist, he walked into his bedroom and quickly threw on his clothes and ran out into the dining room. His father was sitting at the table, watching TV when he sat down at the table. “Thank you dad for breakfast.” His father sat across the table from him, looking into Snow’s eyes. The pressure of his gaze was unfathomable. He knew what he did in the bathroom, he knew that he had lied to him all those years ago. His disappointment was obvious and his shame was apparent. “No problem son!” His father burst out with a laugh. He would always make people uncomfortable just to play with them, just this time, Snow actually was guilty of something that would devastate his father if he had found out, so it especially worked this time. 


The two finished their breakfast and Snow helped his father clean the kitchen after he cooked all the food. When the kitchen was clean, they said their goodbyes, then Snow was on his way to the training grounds. On his way, he looked into the sky, the sun was out and shining brilliantly upon the grounds of Konohagakure. He was thinking about how beautiful the birds were as they flew overhead. Now that he let out his excess stress and emptiness into the blade of his knife, he was able to be his happy and kind little self. 


He stopped in at the Herbalists house. When he walked in, the woman behind the counter, the woman who owned the shop and herbalist herself, immediately called to Snow. When he got to the counter, the woman brought him in close, as to tell him something quietly. “What’s wrong?” Snow was baffled by this for a moment. “W-what do you mean?” the herbalist rolled her eyes and she whispered to him, “I know something is going on with you. You are never this late in my shop and your whole aura is off. So what is wrong, tell me what’s happening in your head.” Snow was very late, especially when considering Snow was never late to anything ever, something he prided himself over. He stuttered for a moment, but he ultimately lied to the woman. He laughed and told her that he was just running late because his father needed him to help around the house.


He knew that this story was not believable in the slightest, and based on her face, she knew it too. But she let it go with a “What can I get you Snow?” Snow let out a quick sigh of relief. He gave the woman a list that he had put together the day before after the spar with Akira, he ended up using the rest of a few of his supplies. She filled his pack with the ingredients that he had on the list. She thanked Snow for his time, but stopped him from leaving just now. “If you need someone to talk to, come on in and we can talk over some tea. Okay?” Snow’s head couldn’t help but to hang slightly. He knew that he needed to talk about his problems. He spent so much of his energy trying to make everyone else happy, and trying to keep his father out of his depression, that he had been neglecting his own. Snow looked up to the woman and nodded his head. “I will do that. Thank you for your time, and for the supplies.” She nodded her head and Snow walked out of the building. 


It was very nice of her to offer him her ears for his sake. But unfortunately he wouldn’t even know what to say. He had suppressed his thoughts for so long, he didn’t remember most of them. They were just stuck in the back of his mind. So he decided to go to the ramen shop, he was in no shape to work with his ninjutsu that was actually quite dangerous to use and to be around, especially if you were depressed to the point of cutting yourself.


He walked into Ichiraku’s and the cooks greeted Snow, but when they saw his face. They all got silent and immediately began whipping up a bowl of ramen specifically for him. Snow sat down and pulled his pack towards his front. He set the pack down and grabbed his pad of paper. He flipped it to an open page and began writing down his thoughts. He spent the rest of his day, sitting at the counter. Thoughts of suicide running through his head, him asking himself why he continued on with the life that he lived. Hopefully he’d find the answer in the bottom of the ramen bowl.


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Drowning the depression with broth and noodles Empty Re: Drowning the depression with broth and noodles

Thu Jan 23, 2020 8:06 pm
APPROVED by Duppy:registered:
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