He was sitting on the edge of his bed. He had bandaged hands and a plaster on his nose. He was crying quietly and hating himself.

Weak.. worthless.. pathetic.. insignificant..

He was angry with himself. He silently berated himself. His tone is a quiet whisper, but aggressive towards himself. You open the door quietly. He was sitting with his back to you. When he heard that you came in, he immediately wiped his tears and did not cry. His face was frowning.