𝒞𝓁𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓎'𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝒹ℯ𝒶𝓉𝒽 （𝒜 𝒸𝒽ℯ𝓃𝒻ℴ𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓊）

Chapter fourteen: Bleeding hearts, broken bodies

A/N: Before I start I would just like to thank y'all for the support on this book, it's genuinely one that is incredibly important to me as are the topics covered, so I would just like to thank you. And give a quick disclaimer this chapter is set the next day because one again no confusion will be given on my watch. However please keep in mind that the conversation was not completion in the previous chapter, Tim didn't outright confess so Lucy did not say anything regarding the "confession."  As always trigger warning for mentions of sexual assault,  depression, self harm, and abuse.

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Sunlight peered in through the pale green blinds covering the window up against the couch that Lucy sat on in her therapist office, so many thoughts flooded her mind in the past twenty four hours, Pierson threatening to kill her, the bruises, Tim beating up Pierson, his hinting at feelings he had for her. At first she thought she was insane, but the more she thought the more that what he did, what he said wasn't something a friend said, Jackson never held her his lap, and kissed her head, Genny didn't call her "baby." Tim however did all of those things, Tim was the one who held her and took care of her better than anyone, he's the one who got suspended for her. Part of her wanted to be happy, she wanted to giggle and blush like she would've a year ago but instead she just felt sick.

It wasn't by any means that she didn't absolutely adore Tim, that she wasn't 100% positive she loved him, but she was struggling to stay alive, to keep breathing, keep living how was she suppose to be in love when she wanted nothing more then to die? She knew that he wouldn't force anything on her, that he wouldn't even tell her while she was in this fragile of a state, but the knowledge that he loved her and it was already ruining him was enough to send her into the spiral that landed her in her therapist office the moment it opened at 5am.

She'd tossed and turned all through the night, she scratched at her flesh, and scrubbed as hard as she could and nothing could erase the nausea that flooded her, the grime that clung to her body it was like the first night all over again. This time had been much worse though because unlike those first few nights she couldn't deny what happened to her, she couldn't pretend it was a bad dream, she couldn't take her pain meds and sleep it off, no her dad had taken them away the second she got home from the hospital locking them in the safe in her parents room. She scratched and scrubbed and hyperventilated half of the night, around 3am was when it got to be too much. "You're worth it." echoing in her mind until she couldn't breathe, she wasn't fucking worth it.

So at 3:15 she dug underneath her bathroom sink, at 3:17 she brought the blade to her arm and pressed down until it bled, she'd repeated the process until half her arm was covered, the only untouched spot was her wrist that she could so easily end it all with. By 3:22 she'd brought it over her wrist, why did it matter if she was alive? Her parents hated her, everyone thought she was a whore, her friends were tired of her, Tim got suspended because of her and no matter how many times he said it she wasn't worth it, not for a split second was she worth it. 

She hasn't quite been sure what stopped her, or perhaps she did, maybe she knew exactly what had stopped her, but she hated herself more that she wanted him still, that she wanted to hope that he was some kind of fairytale prince who'd take her far away from the cruel place that imprisoned her. It was 3:30 by time she dialed the number to the hotline she'd called so many times before. "I want to kill myself." she spoke the words out loud that had been in her head for years, she'd tried multiple times but never actually did she speak the words out loud, and by 5am she'd been sitting in the waiting room until her 6 o'clock appointment.

Now she sat on the white couch rubbing at the cuts on her arm that stung so badly as she glanced at the sun peaking through her window. "Lucy?" her therapist seem to ask as her mind faded from the room back to the school hallway with hands squeezing so hard she couldn't breathe much less form another word. "Hmm?" She murmured as she reminded herself over and over she wasn't there anymore, that she was safe but she didn't feel like she was safe not when he stared at her from across the room like he was planning to do it once more. "Lucy you in here at 5am and it's clear to me that you're in a crisis." her therapist said and she merely nodded because she couldn't pretend she was okay she had the scars to prove she was far from okay. "I want to die." she told her so calmly that she was sure she'd be hospitalized. "And you've had a past with suicidal thoughts correct?" thoughts, attempts, the blades across her skin til she passed out, it was all the same after all. "Yes, and I want to die again."