Witch's Marsh We watched, the stars fell, and oh you know we let them

Mature Content Warning

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: self-harm

Charles didn't understand what he had done wrong, but it was probably something. His experience in life was that he was always doing something wrong to someone. He hadn't quite figured out yet if that was their fault or his, but the truth was probably somewhere in the middle. He was a filthy scavenger and they were haughty assholes. He knew he was not good with social stuff, and the fact that she was being a haughty asshole didn't change anything about him being an antisocial rotten scavenger.

Without another word he skulked off. Once he was alone, Charles' face twisted in frustration and he threw his head at a tree trunk — again and again and again until the pain in his had overshadowed the emotional pain. Even then the hurt was still there. He knew it didn't help, but there was something compulsive about the way that he sought punishment. He deserved it, and he told himself he deserved it over and over again while tears started to spill across his cheeks.

He didn't deserve friends or love. He only deserved pain and loneliness.