jerriwrites:

Trigger Warning: Self harm. 

Chara didn’t really think this through. In order to get a
knife, they had to go to the kitchen. But in order to get to the kitchen, they
would have to pass the dining room table. They weren’t sure if they could get
pass everyone without being seen.

Yet another disadvantage of being corporeal.

A small part of them was wondering why they needed to be
sneaky in the first place, if no one cared if they hurt themselves.

Do you really need to
ask? What’s the one thing you can truthfully say you learned from your human
family?

Chara knew the answer; they thought about it before, back
when they found that knife in the garden.

The kid’s weak; I’m
doing Chara a favor.

Having Chara pick
fights isn’t a ‘favor’!

I’m just being a good
brother!

Try being a better
son!

Chara winced. Appearances are everything. Their original
mother wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear what their brother made them do. Picking
fights and demanding kids to call them ‘freak’ made people question their
upbringing and destroyed the ‘perfect family’ image their family tried to portray.

And if you were to
stroll into the kitchen just to grab a knife to cut yourself…

Then Tori…Mom’s reputation would be ruined as well. How
could she manage a classroom of students when she couldn’t manage her child?
No, Mom deserved better than that.

Chara couldn’t live with themselves if they messed things up
for her again.

You won’t have to, you’ll
merge back with Frisk soon enough.

Somehow, it always came back to Frisk. They knew Frisk
wouldn’t approve of what they were about to do. They couldn’t bear to see Frisk’s
disappointment.

So here they were, hidden in plain sight behind the sofa in
the living room. They peered over occasionally, waiting for the best opportunity
to sneak on pass everyone. They got the chance to slip into the kitchen when
Toriel started serving the appetizer for the evening: Escargot.

Chara creeped quietly up to the utensil drawer and pulled it
out slowly. Truthfully, it was the first time they’ve opened it up themselves.
They were surprised to see most of the spoons and forks were missing; Toriel only
keep enough utensils to feed their normal gain of seven. They could only find
butter knives, nothing too sharp to do a lot of damage. Chara let out a sigh.
They couldn’t tell whether it was one of disappointment or relief.

But then they saw it. Hidden beneath the drawer organizer was
the red butt of their Mom’s favorite paring knife. This must be where their Mom
hid it after use.

Chara started to reach for it….

Maybe if we teach
Chara how to love, they wouldn’t want to hurt anyone.

…but hesitated. Frisk…really believes that, don’t they?

Anyone doesn’t include
you. Remember? They were trying to
figure out how to protect themselves and others from you. And what was it you
told Frisk to say?

Chara frowned.

Go ahead, tell them it’s
no use.

Chara still felt that was true. It seemed no one could help
when it came to them. Frisk really should have told them that. It probably
would have saved them all this grief. Still, Frisk would probably be the most
upset if Chara hurt themselves.

I genuinely care about
you, Chara.

Chara blushed. They had that, at least. But then again…

…You were really awful
to me, and you did a lot of things that scared me…

…they would just mess it up again. Didn’t they vow to make
Frisk just like them? In the end, they would just hurt Frisk again. That simple
truth put everything in focus for them as they reached for the paring knife—

“Alright Frisk, we need three cups of tea for Undyne, Alphys
and Asgore, three cups of water for you myself and Papyrus, and I’m not sure if
he was serious but make Sans his cup of ketchup anyway.” Toriel said, walking
into the kitchen.

“On it!” said Frisk, heading over to the cup cabinet.

Toriel looked into to the kitchen and noticed her utensil
drawer was open. Curious, she looked into it and noticed nothing was out of
place. Silently, she closed the drawer and turned to Frisk.

“…Frisk?” Toriel said.

“Yes Mom?” Frisk answered with their hands full with cups of
ice.

Where…did you say Chara was?” Toriel asked.

On the other side of the kitchen island, Chara trembled with
their mouth covered, trying their best to remain hidden. They wasted too much
time! Now they were going to be found out!

“They said they needed to use the restroom. Why?” Frisk
asked.

Toriel glanced at the drawer for a second before giving
Frisk her full attention. “Would you please check on them please? I don’t want
them to miss out on our delicious appetizer.”

“Sure thing! But do you want me to finish up with everyone’s
drinks first?” Frisk asked.

“I’ll take care of that Frisk, just make sure Chara is…okay.”
Toriel said, her voice a little strained.

Frisk nodded and set down the cups. After they left, Toriel
filled the cups with water and went to the dining room.

Chara took their chance to dash out of the kitchen. They
watched as Frisk called out their name and knocked on the bathroom door. Chara
snuck pass Frisk as soon as they opened it up and looked inside.

Once Chara was back in their room, they locked the door.
Well, that almost blew up in their face. They could go out there and pretend
like nothing happened and that everything was fine. Except it wasn’t and weren’t
sure if they could pull off acting like it was.

They picked up their sketch book and looked at their
drawings. The first thing they drew was Frisk, but after that their images quickly
turned dark. One depicted their throat slit; another had their limbs cut off. Chara
had started working a portrait of themselves, but it looked too nice and clean.

“Ugh…” They quickly picked up their red marker and scratched
it out in frustration. They looked at the red marker, then at their arms,
drawing a small cut mark on their right index finger. To their surprise, they
felt the same relief that they use to feel when they cut.

Perhaps…there was another way.

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Author’s Note: I wrote this for @soulless-pacifist‘s “The Split” event, which is posted here!

True fact 1: This part was longer than I expected. Tumblr’s format makes it hard to write anything past 1,000 words, otherwise it looks really long.

True fact 2: I had snails when I was like ten when we went
to support my cousin’s waiter job at a French restaurant. From what I recall, I
didn’t like them.

True fact 3: Adopted Grandma made me and my adopted brothers
and sisters take everyone’s drink orders, serve food and clean up after extended
family. Since we were somehow on another tier of family than the others, we
were the “hosts” and had to tend to them. I would’ve questioned it, but to be
honest I was really giddy being told I was more like family than her blood
siblings.

Grandma’s weird like that.