Struggling? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵..

'𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴..'

𝘛𝘞: SH, abuse (after affects,) suicidal thoughts, overthinking.

Narrator's PoV:

Siobhan leans against the wall, watching as Roger grabs his things and prepares to leave. Her body is still tense, but her heart is beginning to calm down as she realises he is really going to leave.

She watches him walk out the front door and sighs deeply, her body finally relaxing as she hears the door slam shut behind Roger.

For the first time in a long time, she feels a sense of freedom as she realises shes alone for the night.

She stands there in the hallway, her body still sore from Roger's earlier attack. As she stands in the quiet hallway, she suddenly feels a mixture of emotions wash over her.

'Relief, anger, sadness, frustration.'

She takes a deep breath and begins making her way upstairs to the bathroom.

She enters the bathroom and looks in the mirror, taking in her appearance.

Her nose is broken and already starting to bruise, her hair is a mess, and her top is ripped.

She sighs, taking it off and looking at her reflection in the mirror.

As she looks at herself, she feels a pang of sadness. This isnt the first time something like this has happened, and she knows it wont be the last.

With a sense of resignation, she turns on the faucet and lets the water run as she starts washing her face

As she washes her face, she suddenly feels very tired.

Its not physically tired, more like mentally and emotionally tired.

The weight of her situation suddenly feels heavy on her shoulders, and all the emotions she's been holding in suddenly come flooding out.

Tears begin streaming down her face as she sits down on the bathroom floor, sobbing quietly.

She sits on the floor, everything that's happened comes crashing down on her. The fear, the pain, the loneliness, the despair.

She feels overwhelmed and powerless, and all she can do is sob quietly, tears streaming down her face She sits there for a long time, not caring about the cold air against her bare skin or how long its been.

All she can feel is the overwhelming wave of despair and the tears running down her cheeks.

When she looks up, a small flash of silver catches her eye. She turns her head to look at it and sees one of Roger's razors sitting next to a blade.

𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵..

Siobhan thinks to herself.
But the way she gazes at it. Its tempting her.

She looks at the blade, the deep shine of it subtracting the only colour thats left of in her eyes.

Fuck no, what am i thinking.
If Roger finds out it will make everything ten times worse..

Siobhan reluctantly disagreed with her battling thoughts and stood up once more trying to maintain her cold composure.

Although knowing that the blade was there now haunts her and is scared for what could come for now she knows what its capable of, what shes capable of.

Her thoughts are overwhelming. She has no home, no one likes her.

Not even herself.

She keeps letting her thoughts wonder and take her into places she never would have thought of going.

After a while of staring morosely into the bathroom door as she sits on the window sill where plant pots lay, her negative statements begin to questioning.

Why was she so cold? What made her cold? Was it Roger? But why? Why would she be so effected by it if its deserved? Was it deserved? Why cant she leave? Whats wrong with her? Is she ok? Is she going crazy? Insane? Is she mentally unstable? Maybe this is all a dream. Maybe Roger isnt real. Maybe shes not real. Maybe life is a lie. What is life? Whats the purpose? Wjat were we made for? Why were we made? Wouldnt it have been easier if we never existed? Whats it like if you dont exist? She dosnt want to exist. But isnt that just death? Would nothingness feel like something? What would death feel like? Would it be relief? Pain? Dream? Why was death scary? Do people care about death? Does she care about death? Others death? Yeah. Her own death? No.

But what would other people think? Would they even care? Would anyone even notice? Would Roger be happy? Will people she speaks to be happy?

Would she be happy?

She forced herself to snap out of her voluntary thoughts and not let them get the better of her before something more serious could happen.

She got up

She once again looked at her own bleeding reflection and cleaned up what had been messed up once more.

She uses ger hands and wipes her face in a pattern not to damage the sensitive skin.

She walks out of the bathroom in a wobble, the exhaustion Roger has been putting on her is really starting to break down.

She moves at a slow pace trying to move steadily, moving closer to her goal.

The eventually makes it to her wardrobe and leans against it while sighing deeply.

She puts her head back and takes deep breathes.

She grabs out a new top and takes it off the hanger, she lookes at it with disgust.

Its so out of her comfort zone as Roger is the one buying her these clothes but has to agree to wearing them anyway.

She puts on the top carefully and then shuts the wardrobe behind her as she adjusts her top.

She moves over to the bed and sits on the edge of it aimlessly, wondering into all of her thoughts from shallow to deep.

No one would care if i died..

Her eyes widen and her heart beats faster at a thought that wont be able to leave her mind.

Her breathing gets ragged and laboured as butterflies fly around in her stomach feeling as if she were to pule them up.

Vivian.

She looks at the atmosphere surrounding her, the peace and quiet she will have for tonight.

Shes home alone. Freedom.

Might as well make use of it...