Work Text:
The initial cuts had been clean and straight. The shock of pain was cathartic, delivering a release that helped his mind let go. Kim didn’t dare turn to the razor often, though. He could only imagine what his father would think, what he’d do – pack him off to a sanitorium somewhere, maybe, and never speak of him again. He knew better than to think this would be an escape.
Kim tried to savour the catharsis beyond the initial cuts. He ran a fingernail down the scab, feeling it catch, tugging at the healing skin: his secret, his escape, his scars.