Gwen
Gwen screamed in frustration. It wasn't fair. All the scars in her arm... they didn't hurt enough. They'd sting for a bit, then they were ok again, and no matter what she did, she couldn't erase the pictures of Mordred and Nyx from her mind.
She flicked on her lighter, the tears dripping down her face as she held her arms over the flame. The flame licked at her arm, sizzling the flesh, and she smiled sadly as she burned her arms and legs.
Then she flicked her lighter off and reached into the bucket of ice she had. She picked up a handful of ice cubes and squeezed as hard as she could, the pain, in her already injured arm, rocketing. She cried out but continued to hold on. Nothing was going to stop the ache in her heart, she could still feel it through all of this.
Gwen looked over to spy her knife again and reached for it. She looked at her arms. There wasn't a clear patch of skin to cut, so she started on the space just above her knees. She cut into her left leg, feeling the moment of release she'd been aching for, and continued to cut and cut and cut until her vision blurred. She looked down at her leg, squinting through the haze to see a mess of blood and skin. She'd cut almost to the bone.
But it didn't matter.
Nothing did.