Jimmy locked himself in his room, a few minutes later. But those few minutes turned into hours. I wonder what he's doing in there.
I approached his bedroom door, and gently knocked. "Jimmy?" I said.
"What do you want?" He sounded paranoid.
"Do you want dinner?"
"No! And I'd appreciate it if you shutted up for once, and just let me starve myself into anorexia!" He yelled.
I covered my mouth with my hand to stop me from crying out. Tears ran down my face, and the wind blew in my eyes. I quickly ran towards my bedroom, and locking the door behind me. What did I do to deserve such a son? I thought.
"Your emoisity doesn't frighten me Jimmy! It's time to stop!" I yelled aloud, not screaming it towards anyone.

I did not like this side of Jimmy.

I think I'm starting to hate him... But I can't. What type of mother would I be if I hated my son. A terrible one.
But, Jimmy actually did frighten me.
I hated the way he acted, and most of the time it scared me.
Jimmy walked into my room. His midnight black covering his left, black eye-lined,  sky blue eye. His Chelsea Grin black band shirt, and black skinny jeans, his black Converses. I didn't recognize him anymore. His golden streaked brown hair, bright gamer tees, all gone.
Gone.

Jimmy looked at me, I looked back. "Mom..." His voice cracked, and trailed off.
"Yes, do you need anything?" I asked him.
He was shaking. He slowly put out his hand. And I saw what he needed me for. "Help m-me, mom." He frowned, showing his teeth and letting off a little wrinkles. He looked about as if he were going to cry.
There was blood, and His wrist was slit.