mha sick fics (angst)

soon enough (dadzawa)

TW: suicide attempt, lots of talk about suicide, depression, abuse, neglect, bullying, etc. :>
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Middle school:
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Izuku held the gun to his throat, ready to pull the trigger and send a bullet up his skull.

He was ready, but his heart was racing. But he was ready.

He took a deep breath. This was it.

Then he took another breath. Really, this time.

Fuck.

His finger twitched, but not enough to press the trigger.

Why was he so scared?

No. He was going to do this. He couldn't go back. He couldn't keep doing this. It had to end right now.

Izuku Midoriya had stolen his father's gun, run out of the house, and was now in a field in the middle of nowhere, ready to end it all.

He had made his bed. Emptied his soaps. Tried the pasta recipes. He had nothing else to live for.

It was nearly pitch black out. The light of the moon was making tears shimmer over his cheeks and lighting up the breeze as it brushed over the field of tall grass. He couldn't help but imagine his blood splattered all over the blades around him.

At home, his suicide note was folded and laid on his bed. Everything was clean and crisp. He'd left his bedroom made. Sold a lot of his belongings. He had sealed the money he made in an envelope and placed it under the letter.

He still had hours until his mother and father realized that he wasn't asleep. They thought he was in bed. They didn't even know the gun was gone. They probably didn't even care. He couldn't remember the last time they'd given him a hug, told him they were proud, or even acted like he was anything but a nuisance. A waste of space.

Izuku, you failed your last test.

Izuku, you forgot to do the dishes again?

Izuku, you put too much salt. You ruined it.

Izuku, why can't you keep your room clean!? You're such a slob.

Izuku, did you mop the floors like I asked? I have to do everything around here!

Izuku, your grades are dropping. Get them up.

Izuku, your hair is a mess. Can't you make yourself look presentable?

Izuku, you're embarrassing us.

Izuku, stop crying.

Izuku, stop laughing so loud.

Izuku, stop looking uncomfortable.

Izuku, Christ, don't be so uptight.

Izuku, dont be such a social slob.

Izuku, be more mindful!

Izuku, stop caring so much!

Izuku!
Izuku!
Izuku!

Izuku let the gun drop from his throat and swallowed harshly. No, they wouldn't miss him one bit. He was throwing away every chance at a future. He didn't want the future. The future was hell. The future was more torture and bullying and feeling like a complete waste of space. The last thing he wanted was to keep going like this. He was completely fine with this. He wanted this. So why couldn't he just pull the damn trigger?

Just pull the damn trigger.

It was like a voice taunting him. Pull the trigger. Do it. You know your life is worthless.