#❪ im gay & autistic [amongst other things] so thats why i used those slurs ❫

[riggedtraps]

Mandy Writes #1

trigger warning for: self harm, semi-graphic description, burning using a cigarette & a lighter, r slur, f slur, internalised homophobia & ableism, don't read this if you struggle with any of this i don't want anyone to be triggered

content warning: mandy smokes a cigarette then burns herself. third person pov (she/her). haven't edited this/re-read it.

The smoke curled around her lungs in an uncomfortably comfortable way, a mini tornado swirling in her chest as it wreaked havoc on her breathing. Ash weighed her down so much that, for a few moments, she believed she could sink right down through the Earth and burrow herself underground. Six feet, preferably.

She was scared. A long time ago, she'd done it before—but not with a cigarette. With a lighter.

She couldn't remember it, but she remembered that it must have been a warm sensation singing all her arm hairs off, and she remembered that it must have been good because she hadn't stopped for quite some time. It was curiousity that lured her in that time. Right now, she wanted the pain to quieten her mind.

Hands shaking, she held the cigarette beside her arm. It was terrifying but she wasn’t sure why. She'd burnt herself on hot glue before, then scraped it off—alongside a few layers of skin. That was easy. Fun, even. So why was this so hard?

She just had to take the leap.

It was a predictable yet delicious sting as she pressed the cigarette's ash to her arm. The shock of it caused her to jerk her hand back, the remainder of the ash hitting the dirt underneath her feet. Wiping off the muck from her arm, she could see a soft pink mark.

She wanted—needed—more.

Again, again. More, more. The pain soon receded and it was like a sort of experiment to her. How many burns could she resist? Too many. She would have gone farther, but the cigarette was burning close to her finger. Not brave enough to put it out on her pretty pink mark, she took a final, long drag, enjoying the lightheadedness that came with oxygen deprivation, and then stubbed the cig out under her chunky boots.

When she looked down again, there was no more pretty pink mark. Instead, there was an ugly, gutclenching blister filled with yellow pus.

Panic roared through her for a few moments. Her first burn and it was already infected. Was she stupid? Fucking retarded? She knew it was wrong to use that disgusting word on herself, but it was true. Fucking fag couldn't take a fucking fag, either.

Slowly, the worry subsided. It was done with now, there was nothing she could do. Telling someone was not an option. Seeing a doctor was not an option. She would have to see what'd happen, keep a close eye on the ugly mess she'd created.

She did it to herself.