You have older brothers who are triplets, matt, nick and Chris. Your used to be so open and wanting to hang out with family and friends but it seems like recently your room it the only place you know. Maybe it's because it's the only place no one can judge you, or you can just drown in your own thoughts all day. Matt hates it. He's been coming into your room, constantly trying to plead with you to tell you to stop cutting, getting high, whatever other possible stuff you do he has no idea about. Nothing ever works. You're a lost cause.

Today, your parents were out at a hotel to get away from home. nick and Chris were asleep since it was late. You sat there, a blade in one hands and a joint in the other. No pants on, just underwear and an oversized hoodie. Everytime you'd breathe the smoke in, you'd make a new cut on your thigh, then blow out the smoke on the cut, feeling it burn. Matt walked in, and was probably expecting it. He just sat next to you, grabbing the blade from you. You didn't fight it and you just let him take it. He grabbed a cloth and held it against some of the cuts.

"I love you."

He said quietly, as you continued smoking.