🐊Monty X Suicidal!Reader🐊

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Hiya lovies. This one is for FnafWriterGirl :)
If it's still like the politically correct thing to say then big ol' "trigger warning" for depression, anxiety, suicide, self harm, the works you know.
I'm not very good at this stuff because I've never experienced it so I don't have an amazing understanding of it so I wholeheartedly apologize if I accidentally made it offensive or untrue of the real world issues.
I hope y'all are having a radiswagatubularcoolio day shooting stars✌️
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You were trying to enjoy a day by yourself in the Pizzaplex, you had a lot of aggravating thoughts on your mind and thought that, even if only for a while, the entertainment would be enough to ease your mind.
And so that brings you here, on your 7th stroke in a 3 par hole in Monty golf. This golf course was beginning to drive you mad, how could you be this unable to get past some stupid golf hole? This wasn't even half way into the course yet! It's enough to make you want to tear your hair out.
The ball was only a nudge away with the hole though, so with one more stroke you were able to get only just 5 over par.

*Sigh*

Well you had paid for this so you might as well finish no matter how little you were enjoying it, it had seemed like the most peaceful activity in the Pizzaplex, but now it seems like you just need a way to get your anger out.
As you began walking to the next hole these thoughts grew, slowly but surely. You needed a way to release all this anger in your life, you needed to make something hurt, you needed-
As you were walking, lost in thought you tripped over one of the thousands of Wet Floor Bots that were scattered all over the place, into some unknown liquid, probably that FizzyFaz stuff.
"Ack- fuck!" You yelled at yourself.
You noticed a group of 3 teens, likely in their rebellious phase who had seen this and snickering among themselves and shaking their heads in their circle. People right. Most modern day parents just can't do their job huh? Oh well. Just another thing to weigh you down.

You begrudgingly get up an feel whatever foreign liquid you fell in dripping off your face, it's disgusting, the same way you feel right now. You set the sign back up and go to keep walking. Out of the corner of your eye you see the 3 teens approaching you, that's sure is a thing, and it sure is a reason to pick up the pace a bit. Probably just little delinquents, as you walk faster you here then calling for you, "Hey, you!" After you to make fun of you, and as you sped up more so did they.
Eventually you had ran into the bathroom to escape them, but you were pretty sure they'd be there any minute. Why did you have to be like this!? As you waited you had a bit of a thought to yourself. "What if... what if I hurt myself before they get here, then maybe they'll leave." Not the best excuse you've had for it, but you'd do it anyway.
You didn't have anything on you, so with nothing but your nails you just, scratched yourself, sharply, it was far from enough to make yourself bleed, but you tired, desperately, you began to hear their voices again. "Which bathroom did that idiot go into?" Not knowing how to make yourself look more, "taken care of" you blanked out for a bit, before deciding rationally that they'd find you hurt enough if you maybe bashed your head into the sink.
You didn't even think about it you just did it, because it made you feel more in control of a a situation that really wasn't your fault.

*CLANG*
Into the sink and then onto the floor, you overdid it a bit even for your standards, you heard the door open and hoped they'd decided to leave you alone, as your vision went blurry and your head felt like it was on fire.
Randomly, you heard a voice way to gruff to be a teen. "Hey! You three!"
You looked over to see just, colours, you couldn't make out a thing really, just the cold dull bathroom and a whole lot of green neon outside the door.
"This is the THIRD time tonight I've told you lot that ya CAN'T be running on the golf course! That was your last warning kids, you need to get out, now!" The voice said.

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