He couldn’t handle it anymore.

The constant bullying, the constant harassment, the constant pressure, everything.

His panic attacks were daily now, and the cuts on his arms were getting harder to hide with the maids and servants practically riding on his shoulders at this point.

He just hated everything now, and only the thought of his mother had been keeping him on this ground.

Though, he’s still been seriously debating if he should kill himself.

He was sure Antinous would like that.

That blade that rested against his nightstand just looked so tempting.. and he was sure he had a rope or two somewhere in his unnecessarily large room.

And the thought was just as tempting as ever in a moment like this.

Telemachus was breaking down into another panic attack, his body curled on his bed.

He cried harshly into his knees, his hands pulling at his messy brown hair harshly, his eyes clenched shut as his body trembled.

He lifted his head up quickly, looking around in a panic, his mind in a daze.

His eyes then caught onto a dagger resting on his nightstand, and he scrambled over to it on the bed.

Just after he reached the blade, he heard a knock on the door.

He squeaked in surprise, harshly pulling the blade towards him and tucking it under his pillow, leaning back against the soft cushions to try and look natural.

Telemachus wiped his face quickly, his breathing sharp and shaky, his lower lip quivering.

He prayed that he didn’t look like an absolute mess, though he was sure he did.

“W-who is it?”

He managed to call out, but immediately cursed himself after.

"Shit."

He thought in a nervous daze.

He sounded pathetic.