trigger warnings: depression, selfharm, selfdestructive behaviour, (one swear word)
Please don't read if you don't feel comfortable with that.
Click. That was the last step. Your only connection to him was gone.
It's not like he would even notice, though. You weren't important to him. You were just some girl he was following on Instagram and occasionally said 'hi' to when you had first annoyed him by sending your own 'hi' text. He had only answered because he felt obligated to do so. Out of pity.
He would never notice that you had deleted your Instagram account, who cared?
Basically, you had freed him.
No more annoying stupid girl online that sent him texts now and then, no more ugly posts of you or whatever unimportant thing you were doing, on his feed.
Your phone slipped out of your hands now that you didn't have any connection to him left and a loud sob escaped your lips.
It was painful. Eveything was always painful.
So you had made the decision to let him go, being part of your stupid life wasn't good for him, it was only a burden, nothing else.
'It's good what I did', you thought as your lips formed into a silent scream, tears slipping into your mouth and hands balled into fists to hold back the urge to scratch out your hair, rip off your skin or poke out your eyes.
Your screams were always silent. You couldn't be annoying your neighbors after all. And the cuts you left were never on your skin, but ripped into paper, cut through clothes, anything you could find but your own body. You couldn't let anyone see after all. You didn't want attention, the less people noticed, the better it was. For everyone. And part of you knew that selfharm did nothing good to you, it just ruined your ugly body even more and left thick ugly dark pink scars like the ones on your hips. And when people saw those they always put on a pityful face and acted like they cared.
You didn't want anyone who cared, no one really cared after all. You just wanted to take the bath that was filling up in the bathroom and sit there until it was so cold that you were starting to freeze and maybe catch a cold.
By the time the water actually was cold it was evening. You were still sat in the water, your hair not even wet. You hadn't moved since you had stepped sat down in the tub, but the salty tears had been runnin non stop, dripping down your body and mixing with the water. Your mind was blank, then it was racing, blank and racing again.
All hope, that you stupidly had and weren't able to get rid of, that he might have noticed or... cared was trying to get to the front of your mind but you kept numbing it, pushing it back and trying your very best to destroy it.
"Shut up!", you finally shouted, sobs escaping with the words, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"
He was not going to care! He was not going to notice anything because he simply didn't care!
Raging from the stubbornness of your own mind, you stomped out of the bathtub, slipping on the way out, which caused you to fall to the cold tiled floor, one leg still stuck in the tub. You screamed in anger and pain, scratching over your chest on the way back up, throwing on whatever clothes you found first and when you finally reached the bed flopped down. Face first into the soft mattress, immediately soaking it with your non dryed up body and annoying tears still flowing endlessly.
'Maybe I won't be breathing anymore by tomorrow', you thought, nose pressed deeply into the sheets.
***
You were breathing. Still breathing. Still as broken as ever with a face that felt disgustingly crusty from all the salty tears that had dried on it.
You felt hungry but what would eating do? It would just be a waste of food and you'd have to buy new food then. So you ignored the unhappy grumbling od you stomach.
"Deal with it, I'm never happy either, ok?", you snared at it. Of course, that was a lie, there were times in your life where you were happy. Very happy, even. But in the end the darkness always came back, it was always at home, just waiting for you to come back to make you drown in it.
It was Sunday, so you wouldn't have to go to work where you'd have to put on a fake smile and walk around like you were so proud to be on earth. It was always that faking of confidence that drained you the most, acting like you were sure that your idea for a song as a producer was the best ever when you hardly ever actually felt that way.
Today you could just sulk.
Or not. Your phone started ringing and destroyed the silence you had been bathing in for the last half hour.
"If that's work, I swear -", you started angrily, but stopped when you saw the screen light up with the words 'unknown number'.
Who the fuck would call you on a Sunday morning??
When the ringing still hadn't stopped after three solid minutes, you grumpily picked up.
"Hello?", speaking loudly, your voice sounded like someone had been tearing up your vocal cords all night long.
"Y/N?"
'Oh no!', your eyes shot open staring up at the blank walls of your room in pure panic, 'What- how?'
Before the voice could say another word you had hung up.
Maybe it was just someone with a similar voice, your mind tried to convince you, but you knew his voice. Listening to a certain solo album on repeat every single week would do that.
Why would he call you? No, it couldn't have been him, he didn't have your number and he couldn't have gotten it anywhere. It was impossible.
But the fear of it actually being him was there nevertheless. You were almost hoping for the person to call again just to make sure it wasn't him. But who would call a strangers number again, this was probably just a stupid prank call...and it had worked and gotten you scared.
part 2 already on the way, ik Ash was, well, basically not at all in here, but he'll be in part 2
