Kellin Quinn Imagines

Suicide(triggering)

Triggering! You've been warned!

~

I hate myself so much. No one likes me. Im called a faggot and get told to self harm practically every day. Why am I even alive?

I take things into consideration. I only have one thing: Kellin Quinn, my boyfriend.

Thats not enough.

I run to the bathroom, Kellin still at work. I reach into my cabinent, pulling out a box of blades and a bottle of pills.

"I'm not worth shit," I say, making one cut on my wrist. "I'm ugly." Another cut. "I'm fat." Another cut. "Why am I even alive?" A long cut, straight down my left arm. Before I can pass out, I spill the remains of the pills into my mouth, swallowing them.

"Goodbye..."

Right before everything goes black, I hear the bathroom door open. "Y/N! NO!" My vision goes black, and I become a limp body on the tile flooring.

Kellin's POV~

NO NO NO! SHE CANT BE DEAD! NO! WHAT DID I EVER DO TO DESERVE THIS!?!? OH GOD, Y/N!

I quickly call an ambulance, soon arriving at the emergency room.

They've done all they possibly could. She's barely breathing, and the only way she can is through a tube.

"God, Y/N. Please come back... I love you... Please..." I squeeze her hand, and the line goes dead.

She's... Gone...

~~~~~

PART TWO WITH FUR VOTES