The Quirkless At U.A. (Student Reader x Aizawa)

Chapter ???

CW: Mentions of self-harm and suicide.

Things aren't great again. I'm anxious. And feeling the bad feelings again. When that one, single, shitty thing plays over and over again in your mind to no fucking end, it's hard. That heavy, cloudy, hollow feeling seeps and sinks deep into your chest, and you don't know what to do. All I can feel is that feeling, and the stinging feeling on my shoulders and thighs. And I feel dirty, and like a failure for that.

I was meant to see Toga today. We went in, but then were immediately kicked out as the police said she was being transferred, due to them being worried about the League finding her. She managed to tell us to talk to her at the new, higher security facility.

So, I would've had another week of this hell. The hell of not knowing what the fuck to do. Hating myself, no, despising myself for almost failing that exam. After all of Shouta's help since I started school.

Another week of digging my mind deeper and deeper into this hole, a hole which is so fucking difficult to climb out of. All these shitty thoughts.

'We can't help her. She belongs behind bars.'

'Even if we did, she could go back on her word.'

'She would destroy Shouta's career.'

'She would destroy my life.'

'She will destroy my life.'

'There is no way out of this.'

'You got yourself into this. It's your fault.'

'So why are you complaining now?'

And I hyperventilated, sobbing into my pillow. Wrenched cries became muffled by the feathers, as I clutched on for dear life. This is pain. I'm in that hopeless state again, and my mind continues to convince myself that this extends to everything else; that Shouta hates me for what she's doing, that Katsuki probably hates me too for some reason, and everything I do will end in failure.

It's not rational.

It ain't rational, right?

But is it?

Am I thinking erratically?

Why am I here? I was never going to get better. It was always going to be like this. The urges, the cloud, the fuzz, the noise, the nothing that drowns out everything.

Google told me it's called depression.

I don't like that word.

And it told me it's not 'bad things', it's 'self-harm'.

Those are terrifying words.

They make everything feel too serious. Too real.

I am not those words. I just slip up sometimes. I have bad coping mechanisms. I'm fine.

Right?

I'm just a troubled teen or whatever.

I'm not a teen anymore.

I'm an adult.

With the problems of a teenager.

I must be psychotic.

I must be demented.

Haha.

I'm not sure what's happening to me. Why am I still trying? When nothing will improve?

I was kicked out. I'm free.

Yet, why am I still like this? Leaving was supposed to cure me.