Welcome to Michael Jackson Imagines Vol. 3!
This is a book full of erotica and different AUs of Michael Jackson.
I hope you brought your holy beverage or food, you're probably gonna need A LOT.
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An: Warning - This post involves deep depression and suicidal tendencies so you have been warned.
National Suicide Prevention Line 1-800-273-8255
Requested from @euphoriadaya
~ Hidden Hearts ~ ~*Part Two*~
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Inside the small bathroom, I leaned against the door, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
What had I done?
What kind of friend was I?
Michael was married—happily married—and I had just kissed him. I felt sick to my stomach, the guilt crashing over me like a wave.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I couldn't stop them from spilling over. I felt so lost, so overwhelmed, and before I knew it, I was spiraling. My eyes landed on the small razor I kept on the sink. I hadn't done this in months, but the urge to feel something—anything—was overwhelming.
I rolled up my sleeve, revealing the faint scars that I had hidden from the world. My hand shook as I picked up the razor, the cool metal against my skin bringing a twisted sense of relief. I pressed down, the sharp sting a welcome distraction from the chaos in my head.
But it wasn't enough. I needed more, needed to drown out the voices screaming in my head. I cut again, and again, until the pain became a dull throb. But then, I heard Michael knocking on the door, his voice muffled but frantic.
"Yn, are you okay? Please, let me in. We need to talk about this."
His concern only made me feel worse, and in my haste to hide what I was doing, I cut too deep. A sharp pain shot through my wrist, and I gasped, blood welling up faster than before. Panic gripped me as I realized what I had done.
"Yn?"
I scrambled to turn on the faucet, the water mixing with the blood, swirling down the drain.
"Why is the water running? What's going on?" Michael's voice was louder now, more insistent.
My vision started to blur, and I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. I sank down into the bathtub, letting the water run over me, hoping it would wash away the guilt, the shame, the pain.
But it didn't. It only made me feel more lost, more empty. My head lolled back, and I stared up at the ceiling, feeling the world slipping away. The water soaked my clothes, but I barely felt it. All I could think about was how badly I had screwed up, how I had hurt the one person I cared about more than anything.
