Johnnie Guilbert x Reader

(HUGE TW ⚠⚠) Aide.

       My eyes were red and puffy and the floors of my room around me were bloody. 

       How did I end up here? 

      As I glance down at the deep fresh scars across my arms my vision begins to blur. There's a lump in my throat and I can feel the walls closing in on me. 

      Was my room always this small?

      I begin to panic. I can't breathe. I can't see straight. I don't know what I'm feeling at this point- but I want to feel something. I pick up the blood stained razor once again, dragging it across my wrist til I see the blood dripping down my arm into a small puddle on my floor. 

     Why did I do that? 

     Why do I want to do it again? 

     I feel nauseated and sick. I feel disgusted with the world and myself. Mainly myself though..

     I heard my door handle shake and rattle. I heard screams, I can't make out what they are saying though. Female voice? Male voice? I could care less. I'm so tired. Everything is so blurry, I feel my eyes closing. There's a ringing in my ears, it's so loud. I press my hands tightly over my ears. It wont help. 

    There's a loud bang at my door before I hear it open, loudly slamming against the wall of my bedroom. There's multiple voices around me. Someone is trying to pulling my hands away from my ears. I don't care enough to open my eyes, I keep my hands pressed tightly on my ears. I hear a muffled voice, crying out my name. I'm too tired to check who.

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    I hear a loud gasp and sob of relief and a beeping sound. My eyes slowly squint open and I stare blankly up at the white roof. 

    Why?

    I glanced to my side, my vision was still blurry but I could make out 4 figures standing there. Maybe it was 2 because the other 2 looked awfully alike, but they could be doppelgangers. Oh, where am I? I looked around. The lights felt too bright. My eyes ached. I looked over at the figures again, my vision less blurry this time. One of them was a girl, short and dark haired. She was sobbing next me. The other was a guy, dark haired and pale. He was next to her crying as well as he reassuringly rubbed her back. My memory was fuzzy, it took a moment to recognize them.

   I looked to the boy, "Johnnie..?" Then the girl "Tara..?" I murmured with a raspy quiet voice. Tara threw her arm over me, hugging me tightly. Johnnie pulled her away, "Tara, you'll hurt her!" He scolded quietly, before looking at me with relief in his eyes. He gently grabbed my hand, holding it with tears in his eyes. "Why y/n..?" He asked, I felt my eyes water. "Why am I still here?" I replied in a dry, raspy, lifeless tone. I saw him begin to cry as he heard my words. I felt terrible.. "I'm sorry.." I added.

   I had to stay the next few days in the hospital. After that I was forced to go to a metal hospital for 2 weeks. The whole time was hell.. I want nothing but to be rid of the burden of life. I'm so tired. Should I have tried something else? Should I have cut deeper? The time passes and I feel nothing, everything is so empty and meaningless. I find myself asking the same question ever waking minute of the day..

  'What's the point?'

   What truly is the point? Is there even a point? Or is it a myth, like dragons and fairies. Something people speak of so much that doesn't truly exist. Or does it only come for those who deserve it? Do I not deserve a reason for living?

   What's wrong with me? 

   I feel my brows furrow a bit, I feel angry at myself as I remember only a bit over a week ago Johnnie and Tara were standing over my hospital bed sobbing. Is that enough of a reason to keep living? Why am I so selfish? I'm so bratty. I always want more when I already have enough. Am I seriously so self-centered that people that love me aren't enough?  

   I feel myself getting choked up and teary eyes as my thoughts drag out.

   What if none of it is real? What if Johnnie doesn't actually like me? What if Tara hates me and doesn't actually see me as a friend? What if everything is all fake. What if I'm fake? What if none of this that I'm feeling is real? What if I'm just faking everything and I don't realize. God, I hate myself so much. Why can't my brain just turn off and stop thinking. Why??

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   I'm finally back home. It's not the same. I don't think it ever will be.