This is Peneoples pov so no one is confused. Also, a tw: self harm
Mid-afternoon
Her breaths were slow paced, and the soft covers of her bed made me melt into the soft embrace.
Her rosy pink cheeks indicated how flushed she was, her skin was a mixture of beig and pink. She had a thicker nose with hazel nut eyes. Plump lips and light freckles around her skin. Brunette messy hair, her body was a bit chubby, but that was hard to determin when she had a blanket over her.
I had a feeling. It's a really bad one. My stomach growled. A huge sigh left my mouth as I slowly stood up and stretched. My mind was directing me to her drawer. My hand grabbed the handle of the drawer and pulled. Inside was a razor. A bloody one.
I was right, that's why her arms felt so....rough..
My mind couldn't understand why, why would she do this? Is this really what I think it is? And if yes, for how long? My head was spinning in circles as my thoughts just came to a stop. I quickly put the razor back, and my hands were shaky. My legs brought my back to the bed where Hazel kept on talking in her sleep.
And if I were to help her, I would have to make sure she feels comfortable. But I don't know how to help. Is she in therapy? Is that why she called? The thought of her going through this alone made my chest tighten. Should I ask her about it? Or would that just push her away? I'm scared to say the wrong thing, but I can't just sit here and pretend everything's okay.
The bed slowly rose as I climbed in. I put my arms around Hazel, kind of like she would disappear if I didn't. My eyes shut tightly, I was scared to leave, I was scared she would die if I didn't hold her. I got scared of a lot of things, but I just don't show it enough. Hazel always somehow knew if I got anxious, that's why I found myself in this situation. With her
{With her}
Because with her, I always find myself in a situation.
YOU ARE READING
Will it be ok?
RomanceDealing with depression is hard, but what's harder is the people around you don't notice and play it off as you are lazy. 15 year old, Hazel had been dealing with depression, anxiety, and self-harm. Life had gone downhill ever since her father had...
