outerbanks imagines.

wounded bird syndrome-rafe cameron.

the diagnosis is in:
y/n l/n has wounded bird syndrome.
anyone who has ever come across her can attest to this,
but it's important to know just where it stems from.
like all cliches,
y/n's greatest disappointment began in her father.
the man who defaulted to drinking his liver useless when things got rough,
the man who poured every ounce of burning anger out on her,
the man who would kiss her forehead gently and say,
"you're my greatest pride, y/n."
but no matter how great of a daughter she tried to be for him,
no matter the hours she put into trying to fix him,
he was a broken man.
y/n had failed to help him heal and vowed to never let it happen again.
except then she found herself stuck in a cycle that showed no signs of ever being broken.
a boy in need of great emotional validation and acceptance would stumble his way to y/n's open palms.
she would spend hours upon hours sewing him up just right,
fingers bleeding to show just how hard she worked.
she would ease their issues however they asked,
whether it be a simple kiss to the cheek or an evening of wounded pleasure.
so long as they were able to be healed and loved by her,
she'd do anything.
inevitably,
these very same boys stood in their new skins that had been patched together by y/n and left her without another look back.
no whispers of thanks,
no promises of remembrance,
just silence and departure.
y/n would spend days in her bed after these breakups,
clinging to her chest that echoed of an ache.
it seemed she forgotten that she was in need of healing too.
being so busy nursing the wounds of those undeserving,
she neglected these infections festering in the deepest parts of her.
but like all things good and bad that are harbored in secret,
they must come to the surface eventually.
y/n's need for mending had never been clearer until now.
"it just hurts so bad, top."
"i know. shit sucks."
topper laid a hand of support to y/n's shoulder then gave it a squeeze.
the two seemed to share the same grief in love:
always taking but never giving.
it had been the crux of their so close friendship now.
"i don't know what to do,"
y/n admitted in a low whisper,
wiping away the last of her tears.
"i have a few solutions for you. if you're willing."
"what?"
topper let out a breath then climbed to his feet where he would rummage through his sock drawer to retrieve a small bag that held an item of clear importance within.
"pick your poison, y/n."
y/n was surprised to see this kind of behavior from topper thorton.
how often he declined influential substances in public,
yet had been indulging in secret.
"you're taking drugs?"
the words sounded childish in the air.
"only occasionally. plus, it's just adderall. nothing crazy."
topper looked back into his sock drawer then continued saying,
"but there's other options, too."
"topper. i don't...no, i'm fine."
y/n shied away from the drugs her friend was offering.
it wasn't that she didn't want to indulge in them,
to escape from this overwhelming emotional turmoil,
but she didn't want to encourage topper in these surprisingly damning habits of his.
"okay...if you say so."
topper was offering it for her,
not himself.
that was different,
right?
it wasn't like she was actively rooting for topper to do drugs with her.
so what was the harm?
if topper could take them in moderation,
show no signs of this decision here,
then so could she.
"ugh, fine. just one."
"as you wish."
y/n scanned the three bags topper now held and decided on one randomly.
"that one."
"perfect choice."
the white pill was placed in the center of y/n's hand.
she could see the powder had been knocked loose from this pill and buried itself in the lines of her palm.
these lines symbolized her many lives led.
which reminded y/n of how many loves lost.
she swallowed the pill without another thought and felt it travel down her throat to make itself home in her system.
"what was it?"
"xanax. you're gonna love 'em."
***
topper had been absolutely right.
y/n l/n loved the blanket of comfort xanax provided.
she loved the numbness that overtook her limbs,
the carelessness in her thoughts that once rioted without remorse,
the simple state of existence.
though she had greatly miscalculated.
one was never enough.
when things at school had been rough,
she'd text topper and ask for just one more. 
he obliged without another thought and y/n was sent home to be free from these negative emotions that seemed to bury her alive.
just until those bitter white pills did their job,
then she was free.
tonight was no different.
y/n was in desperate need of a break now that she'd been left alone with her raging thoughts.