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tw : self-harm ,, mentions of attempted suicide and smoking ! please if you're easily triggered don't proceed any farther !
"your last semester starts today, kid! how are you feeling?" levi asked you.
"i have no idea! the first semester went by so fast! in some months i'm graduating..." you said in surprise.
the day you've been waiting for from the moment you stepped foot into high-school, was so close and yet so far away. and all you had to do was study, in order to attend the university of your choice.
how hard would that be?
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
after two months in the new semester, you left it all behind. you were changing and not in the good way.
you left your studies behind and started going out more, lying to your parents in the process and started smoking.
the first time you tried it was thanks to eren. both of you were relying on it, in order to forget what was going on in your lives.
the only difference was that his parents knew his doings. you, instead, had to carry perfume and gums with you all the time so no one at school, nor your parents, could understand what you have been doing in secret.
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
march 25th, 19.45pm
you were alone in the house. your parents away for a work they had to do.
"we'll be back soon" were your mother's last words before leaving you alone.
"it's been four fucking hours" you said to no one but yourself.
nothing to do.
the tv played nothing good.
social media had nothing interesting.
and you weren't fond of books anymore.
you were just alone. you and your anxiety.
you sighed, letting your head hit the back of the couch.
'i've never felt this tired'
tired.
mentally tired.
you felt nothing but tired and anxious.
"man, i'm stressed out i need a cigarette"
you got up and went to your room, closing the door behind you. you opened the window, to keep most of the smoke out. you took one cigarette out, rolled it and licked a clean stripe along the paper to hold it down.
you plugged your earbuds on your phone and clicked on spotify.
last listened to: 'no time to die' it said.
you put the song on repeat and laid on the bed. you closed your eyes and exhaled the smoke that's been in your lungs. you hummed the melody of the song, its lyrics hitting hard;
was i stupid to love you? was i reckless to help? was it obvious to everybody else that i'd fallen for a lie? you were never on my side fool me once, fool me twice are you death or paradise? now you'll never see me cry there's just no time to die
"bullshit! i want to die!"
in the past months you had many attempts.
fortunately, no one knew.
your arms and legs were full of cuts. not too deep so nobody would notice once the bandages were off and not too shallow either.
they were perfectly balanced.
the urge to cut yourself was here once again. you got up, and walked towards your desk, where your sick mind was telling you to go. taking out a hidden razor, you lifted up your sleeve.
earbuds in your ears, song on repeat, a cigarette in between your lips, a bloody razor in your hand and blood dripping down the floor.
'this feels amazing!'
you were a masochist.
loving the pain you were bringing to yourself.
clear signs of mental illness.
at first, the pain was unbearable but you got numb to the feeling.
you cleaned everything and bandaged your arm.
again.
you laid back on the bed, admiring your arm. you brought the cigarette on your lips and inhaled a good amount of smoke, before exhaling it.
