Puzzle Box

                                    

                                          
This is a vent that I needed to write. I was really scared to post this and if I get any hate or disrespectful comments I will immediately take this down. please respect that this is a vent.
                          
~TW~ 
                          
Swearing, Self-harm, Crying and Depressing thoughts

                          
Tears ran down Tubbos face as he slid down his bedroom wall. The tears burned as they ran down his dry skin. He was just overreacting.
                          
"Fuck me," he whispered over and over. Tubbo buried his face in his hands as more tears burned his eyes. He wanted to leave. He wanted to go home. He hated it here. Everyone was two-faced, his dad was yelling at him one minute then cracking a joke the next. Did he think Tubbo was stupid? He hated it. His dad's wife was nice but she was scary if provoked.
                          
Tubbo wanted to run. He wouldn't get far though. He was situated in the middle of nowhere; nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nowhere to escape.
                          
Surely he was just overreacting. But how could he be so fucking careless? His father had taken his phone. Such a small object that people take for granted. But it meant so much to the boy. Without it, he couldn't contact his friends or even his mum. Tubbo was grounded when he had his phone with him. It gave him a sense of serenity and security. He knew that help was just one click away. 
                          
Without it, tubbo was a mess. It sounded so stupid and needy, but he needed his phone to keep him safe. Another flow of tears rocked his small frame as he thought about it. When he didn't have his phone he panicked, his anxiety got worse and he started to listen to his thoughts. Tubbo wasn't able to escape onto the joyous internet to swipe away his problems. Instead, he had to face them. Face the demons living in his head. Easier said than done. 
                          
The wind howled outside his window as he picked himself up and flopped onto his bedside table. On it sat a small box. Just about the size of his hand. The box was no ordinary box, it contained a beautiful thing. No one would ever figure out its contents. The box was a puzzle box, making it even less suspecting. 
                          
He contemplated opening it. He knew he'd regret it if he did. After fighting a battle in his head, he decided against it. Tubbo turned his back to the box as more tears fell. He was in the middle of a conversation with his mum when his father told him to take it upstairs. Begrudgingly he complied then quickly left for his room.
                          
Knowing that his mum was still wanting to talk to him, hurt. The main person who was helping him through had been cut off. Shit, he thought as his hands started to shake. No no no no no, he needed to talk to someone, anyone. He couldn't be alone with his thoughts. Nothing good would ever come from it. Tubbo felt as though the box was staring daggers into his back. The temptation was coming back, stronger this time. Drawing him in. 
                          
"No," he spoke aloud. Quiet enough so no one could hear him, but loud enough to silence the unwanted guests living in his head. 
                          
It hurt, everything hurt. Sobs engulfed his entire body. Tubbo shook as he tried to stop the ringing in his ears. Pain. mental and physical pain was all Tubbo felt. He felt weak. Why was he having a breakdown over a stupid communications device? 
                          
He slammed his head into his stomach. It caused him to double over in pain. The action also stopped the ringing and calmed the voices. If he knew it was that easy, he would've done it sooner.
                          
No. Disrespectful. Comments. Thank. You. Bye.