Rocky- you're depression gets worse.
Being in the UK, for some school trip that you feel is pretty pointless right now, means you haven’t seen your boyfriend, Rocky Lynch, in a long time.
Or your family. Or your friends. You’re feeling pretty isolated right now.
You’ve been on a low since you left America three weeks ago. Lately, your thoughts have been more dangerous. More suicidal.
You just can’t do it anymore. You start to listen to the voices in your head. They start off with their usual stupid, uneducated words: Stupid. Fat. Ugly. Needy. But then it gets worse: Pathetic. Selfish. Attention- Seeking. They just go round and round. You just want it to stop. S T O P T O P O P P . “STOP! MAKE IT STOP!” You scream, clutching your head in the bathroom. You bang your head against the wall. You know they’re not real. You know it’s just you but you can’t get it to stop. Blood drips down your arms from the cuts, the words engraved into your arm forever. You pant, trying to catch your breath. You close your eyes after realising what you’ve done. You promised him. You promised him that you wouldn’t but now that promise is broken. You were worthless. He deserved better than you. He could easily get better than you. There’s no point in living if he goes. Your mind starts spinning again. Bleach. You know it will be painful but after that, they won’t have to be hurt by you anymore. You can’t hurt them when you’re dead. And they’ll move on. They’ll find someone better than you to replace you. It won’t be hard for them. Your phone starts ringing from the bedroom. You stand up on shaky legs to get it. You take deep breaths and clear your throat; you answer it. “((Y/N?))” Rocky asks. You can tell- just by his voice- that he’s frowning. “What’s wrong?” He asks immediately. You shake your head and try to stay strong. “((Y/N/N)), tell me” he begged just as you burst out crying. You hear Rocky take in a long, shaky breath. “It’s bad again, isn’t it?” He asks weakly. You nod and cry harder, although you didn’t think that was possible. Rocky knew.. Rocky always knew. There was silence on the other end of the phone. “How bad, ((Y/N/N))?” He asked, his voice strained. You suddenly hated yourself for calling him. You put pressure on him. He’s got enough to deal with other than your insignificant emotions. ((A/N- I apologise if this looks weird. The way I wanted to set it out goes very strange whenever I publish this, which makes me sad because I've worked so hard on this one. I'm sorry!))











