Chapter 1

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Hi! So this is my very first fan fic, online! Comment if it's truly terrible, so I don't embarass myself! I own everything in this fan fiction, EXCEPT for the boys of One Direction and Maggie ;P I hope you enjoy this!

-Morgan(:

“Depression is like screaming but nobody can hear you. It’s like falling down a hole, but being able to still see everybody. It’s like being numb, but still moving.”

It’s dark here. It’s almost frightening how dark it is, not being able to see anything. Somebody could run up to me, attack me, right now, but I’d not see them coming, because I can’t see. It’s like walking through the woods at night and the trees are covering the moon so all you can do is hope and trust nothing will be in your way, because you can’t see and it’s dark. Normally, that’d be scary, not being able to see, it being really dark, but right now, right here, it’s peaceful. I can’t feel anything, I’m not sure if I’m even really here. I could be dreaming, because that’s what it feels like. It feels like I’m falling, in the dark.

I started adjusting to the darkness and the floating feeling that I was encountering, when it was all taken away. It felt like I was on a rollercoaster, you know, when you’re at the top and right as you plummet towards the ground you make a turn, that feeling of your body being dragged- that’s what this is like. It was all so dark and I liked it, but in a matter of seconds it was bright, brighter than the sun, and definitely brighter than the light that comes from your room in the morning when you wake up for school.

“Maggie? Are you okay?” I heard my mom’s voice but I couldn’t quite find her. It was still very bright and it was starting to bother my eyes. I don’t know what’s going on here, but if she’s waking me up for school with a flashlight in my eyes, it’s not going to be a fun day- for anybody. And why was she asking if I was okay? Of course I was okay. Aside from her waking me up.

“Mo-” I tried to speak, but my throat was unusually dry. My eyes darted open and I didn’t see what was coming next. I was in the hospital with my mom, a Doctor, and my best friend Lilly.

The Doctor handed me a glass of water, and I downed it, quickly. I blinked my eyes a couple of times, taking in the scene before me, it looked as if Lilly and my mom had been crying. What happened?

“Mom, what happened?” I asked. She gave me a concerned look. I looked at Lilly who began crying again. “What happened? Why am I in here? Why won’t you guys answer me?” I started getting worked up, but the Doctor stopped me.

“Maggie, do you know why you are in here?” The doctor asked me. I shook my head, Lilly started crying again, and excused herself from the room.

“Alright, Maggie I’m going to explain to you what happened a little bit at a time, okay? I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.” My doctor said looking me in the eyes. My mom left to go comfort Lilly. I was starting to get impatient. “Okay, today is July 14, 2013. It’s a Sunday. On July 12, 2013 you tried committing suicide by-” He continued talking, but I stopped listening.

I looked at myself in the mirror. Is this what my life has come to? Every single day I do the same thing, I point out my imperfections and I make sure that I get every single last one. I hate myself for it, but I can’t stop. I looked at all my scars and smiled. I like those, they remind me of more imperfections. More reasons to hate myself. I’m so useless in this god forsaken world. I ran my finger over the very first scar I ever made on my body. It’s on my right hip. I remember making it, I used a dull scissor blade, it was the only thing I could find.

I started laughing. Not because anything was funny, but because the fact that I have so many friends and none of them have seen past my act of “happiness” that I’ve been sharing with them for the last year. On the outside I was happy, laughing, a carefree eighteen year old girl who loved life. But on the inside I was a broken, crying, screaming, self harming, wondering why I was even alive eighteen year old. I’d never openly tell them I was hurting though, they’d send me to a therapist and I can’t deal with that. We’re all going to college soon, and I don’t want double the stress.

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