Depression

Chapter 9

"What on earth were you thinking?!" Professor Utonium was in a state of agitation. He paced back and forth, wringing his hands and yelling at his three dull daughters. Blossom rubbed her bandaged arm, but didn't say a word. "Answer me! What could've possessed either of you to go to such great lengths?!"

"They're dead Professor," Blossom said quietly.

"What does that have anything to do with this?!"

"It has everything to do with it," Bubbles whispered. "I never thought things would get this bad, I swear. But... we just couldn't think of anything that could've helped."

"And cutting yourselves was the answer?! If you keep this up, you'll just end up dead!"

"Maybe that's what we want," Buttercup said dully. "Maybe we want to be dead."

"The Rowdyruff Boys wouldn't—"

"The Rowdyruff Boys wouldn't want this?" Blossom asked bitterly. "Now that they're dead, we'll never know, Professor."

"Blossom—"

Blossom turned away, twisting her restless hand on her wrist. "Professor, we cut ourselves. That's it. At least while we're cutting ourselves, we aren't hurting anybody but ourselves. So just get out."

"Blossom—"

"Out. Now."

He could see he wasn't going to change her mind. He walked around the room, searching the drawers. "Professor, what are you doing?" Bubbles whispered.

Two minutes later, his lab coat pockets filled with charmingly sharp items, he exited the room, saying, "Making sure you aren't going to try to cut yourselves again."

"Girls!"

No response. That was the third time. They should've come down by now. He'd seen them go into the shower, go out in towels, and go into their room. He even saw them perfectly dressed in their uniforms when they had breakfast. They were going to be late. They must be crying again, he thought ruefully. They're really messed up about this.

He mounted the stairs and turned the doorknob. It refused to. "Girls?" He shook the doorknob. "Girls?!" His voice raised to a high pitch and he started slamming his shoulder into the door. "Girls! Open the door!"

Finally, the door gave way and his eyes laid upon a terrible sight. Blossom sat in the corner, Bubbles sat on the bed with Octi in her hand, and Buttercup sat against the nightstand. Their wrists bled. "Girls!"

Hurrying downstairs, he called 911 and after they arrived, they took the Powerpuff Girls to the hospital.

–

"Ugh..."

Dexter sat bolt upright in his seat. Blossom was waking up, and blinked at him with soft eyes. "A-Am I dead?" she murmured.

"You came close," he said. "Blossom, why?"

"W-What?"

"Why'd you do it? Try to kill yourself?"

Blossom's shoulders shuddered with a breath, and her head turned in the other direction. "What about my sisters?" she blustered.

"They're awake," Dexter said, coming to his seat. Then he slid aside the curtains on either side of her. Buttercup was sulking and Bubbles was moving her fingers up and down over the bandage on her arm. He stood in front of Blossom's bed. "Can you all tell me why you did it?"

"We wanted to die," Buttercup muttered.

"I saw that when you cut your wrists," he said soberly. "I said why. Maybe like, why did you want to die?"