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Thoreau didn't see the point of getting out of the hospital anymore. He had easy access to drugs now, and no one was stopping him from taking them. No one was paying much attention to him at all, actually. Pansy trying to kill herself and Pyxis spending all her time with Walden meant that everyone was distracted enough for him to fall apart. The only thing he couldn't have right now that he wanted was sex, because sex meant taking his clothes off and if he did that whoever he was fucking was bound to notice that he'd started hurting himself again.

Maybe the hospital trusted them, or maybe they didn't think the butter knives from the cafeteria were sharp enough to do any damage, but Thoreau had gotten one into his room and when he was alone or when he was in the shower it was easy to drag it across his skin until it broke through and he started to bleed. The blade being dull just made it more exciting. It took longer and hurt more and it was like foreplay to the ecstasy that was breaking the skin. His hips and thighs were covered with marks now, over the old scars. His arms were too obvious.

It was stupid. He knew it was stupid and that he was going to get caught. That eventually someone would either notice how far he'd gone or he'd kill himself, but it was very, very hard to care about that. He only came out of his room because they'd notice him if he didn't. Not that them noticing meant they'd do anything. So he was crazy, so what? He was in a mental hospital. He was home. There wasn't anything for him on the outside. There wasn't much for him here either.

He sat in the common room, buried in his hoodie, watching Luna put things in her mouth without really seeing her while his fingers pressed against the fresh cuts he'd made that morning, sending a little shiver of delight through him every time he made contact with them. Thoreau only snapped out of it when someone walked across his field of vision. He looked up -- way up -- at the other boy, thinking it was Radley for a moment and then realising it was someone new. "Who are you?" he asked, without really thinking about it.