Heathers Oneshots

Changing - Chandlamara

Heather Mcnamara was changing,

and without her girlfriend,

It wasn't for the better

TW: implied Selfharm, Eating disorders, suicide, bullying

Being dead was stupid, Heather could confirm it. All she could really do was watch and talk to Veronica. After all, she's the only one who could see her. Heather suspected it had something to do with the fact that Veronica killed her, but that doesn't explain the fact that JD couldn't see her... probably because he didn't have enough of a soul or something. Freak. She'd talked to some other ghosts, Adam and... she couldn't remember the other ghost's name... something with a B? Not that she cared or something, they were just.. really... really nice. They didn't know either but they looked in this handbook they had... about being dead. Why she didn't get one was beyond her but they did find out that the people who can see certain ghosts can, but don't have to, be related to their deaths.

But yet, so far only Veronica had been able to see her. On top of that, she had to be within a close distance to Veronica at any time, just like Adam and the other ghost had to stay close to their home, or else... strange things happened, and it'd be hard to get back. At home she'd stay close to Veronica, but at school she'd wander off to her girlfriend more often than not, floating around or above Heather at all times like a protector, glaring at anyone who crossed her even though it was useless. It made her feel in control again if they looked away or kept on walking. It was baffling to her how no one noticed how her girlfriend was doing. Of course, she'd spend over a decade being friends with her, topped off by another good 2 years of dating, but surely people could see something was wrong?

The way she'd constantly readjust her sleeves, pulling them down further so they covered half her hands.

How she stopped wearing her chew necklace Chandler had given her because people ridiculed her for it.

How she'd bite and pick her nails instead.

How she didn't stim anymore, and sat on her hands to keep them from flapping as she squeezed her skirt instead.

How she didn't get all excited anymore when someone happened to even remotely refer to one of her special interests.

How the bathroom stim breaks got so much more frequent but shorter. Of course those had been there before but then the stalls were filled with laughter as Heather watched her girlfriend squeal and jump while flapping her hands frantically, overcome with joy that seemed to radiate straight out of her, causing Heather to softly smile to her, a sickeningly love struck look on her face as she just stared and adored her girlfriend as she leaned against the wall.

Now the squeals bounced off the walls, echoing in the too empty stall, her face dropping as she looked at the corner Heather was standing.

Looking but not seeing. Never seeing.

She was getting worse, her mental state declining every passing hour, and yet no one seemed to notice.

No one except for the one who couldn't do anything about it.

Had really no one noticed how she'd move the food on her plate around to make it seem like she ate?

How she ran more and faster and ate less and worse.

How she exercised until she almost fainted.

How she got skinnier and skinnier.

How she was always counting.

Pretending to eat, running, counting... and repeat.

It was coming back, and without her best friend by her side it was threatening to get even worse than last time. If she didn't kill herself, her eating disorder would. Heather was sure of it.