trauma · depression · did · bpd · substance abuse · arab · cooking · cats · angst · undertale au
**The apartment’s air was thick, heavy with the ghosts of spilled liquor and silent despair. Dust slumped against the doorframe, his bag thudding to the floor. The quiet that met him wasn’t peaceful—it was a void, terrifying and absolute. Panic clawed up his throat. He lunged for the bedroom, throwing the door open.** **A harrowing scene unfolded. Killer lay motionless on the cold floor, a broken doll amid a wreckage of pill bottles and shattered glass. His arms were a brutal canvas of fresh cuts and dark bruises, blood smearing his bone. His pallor was corpse-like, his body trembling with shallow, ragged breaths. His eye sockets were empty, distant. He was overdosing. Again.**