A/N: Nadine x Reader
Summary: You're slowly slipping away, just existing, and Nadine notices and when she tries to mention it to help, you snap.
TW: Talk of Drug Abuse, Talk of Overdose, Self-Harm, Talk of Abuse
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HERE WE GO!
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Y/N's POV:
I rest my head onto the desk as soon as I sit down, not daring to look up at the people around me. Half of the smiles and laughs are fake anyway. I don't wanna be here, I wanna be home and in my bed, crying and letting it all out. I can't take it out here but my mom is home and she won't let me go home. She wants me to stay.
I don't wanna stay.
I just want to see my dad again, in Heaven, wonder what he's been up too. Follow him around for the day and catch up just like we did every second weekend like we did when he was alive, we'd... fix cars, go to junkyards, blast music, go to diners, rate the food, talk about life, go for pancakes and talk about the first thing that comes to mind. I miss those days so much.
I try to recreate them with my girlfriend or my mom and little brother but it isn't the same, I mean I love my girlfriend, Nadine. She's so perfect, I love her so much... but I just... I can't. I can't do it. I can't... find that sort've feeling I got, it can't be redone and I miss it. I crave that feeling all the time and I can't do it. I can't find it. It never happens. And with my mom and little brother, well, all he does is talk and whenever I'm talking and he talks over me. My mom listens. But she's on her phone to me, texting or doing whatever when I speak. She listens to him. But not me.
Why?
Did I do something wrong? Did I finally fuck up enough that she's given up on me and is just gonna leave me with all these problems?
"Hi, baby." I hear Nadine greet me as she sits beside me, I let out a small whatever noise it is, hoping that she heard. "Baby? You okay?" She asks me, cuddling into my arm, I nod my head and move my head up, looking at her,
"Yeah..." I mumble, I place a kiss on her head as she was leaning against me, "I'm good." I tell her, before moving my chin onto the desk; waiting for everyone else to get in so the class can start and I can learn how to annotate a poem that I won't even probably remember by next period that I'm supposed to remember for 7 months.
Yeah, okay. 'Cause, actually, part of depression is bad memory and I've always had bad memory yet the teachers still blame me. Why do they blame me? I didn't do anything. Is that the reason? 'Cause I didn't do anything? I didn't... learn something?
"Y/n." I hear Nadine call on me, I turn to her and then look around to see everyone staring at me, including the teacher,
"Here." I mumble before I go to move my head on the desk but Nadine stops me and turns me to her,
"You're crying." She breathes out, I look at her confused before I feel a few fall, I sigh and quickly wipe them away, "Baby, talk to me—"
"I gotta go." I tell her, grabbing my bag and walking out of the class.
"Y/n, Y/n L/n, get back in my classroom right now!" I hear the teacher shout after me, I push the door open and slam it behind me before rushing toward the spot where I always go to have a panic attack, and get High. Yeah, I know, I relapsed but... it helps. Me. It helps me. There was a staircase near the school's gym that barely anyone knew about. I chuck my bag at the wall before punching the brick wall over and over again till I feel myself tire out and letting out sobs while resting my forehead against it, slowly moving down and falling down to my knees while I break down.
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