my little love ⚠️

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a/n: this imagine is about age regression (a coping mechanism) so please no negative comments, this is a safe space for everyone.

if this isn't the kind of imagine you would want to read then please feel free to skip this one and read another!

logan is billie's daughter in this!

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today had been such a long day and, after what felt like an eternity, we finally reached last period and i couldn't have been happier.

i took my seat at my desk like i usually would, unable to speak unless i absolutely had to, which was never often.

my classmates all looked down upon me, almost as though i was a piece of dirt that they trod in daily and could never get rid of.

yet, in some strange way, i didn't seem to be concerned about it in any sense as i was happy in my own little world.

"settle down!" i heard my teacher say, forcing me to enter my state of calmness.

i couldn't help but spend most classes avoiding doing any work as, although i often excelled in my studies, i hated forcing myself to focus.

however, usually i'd find english the better of my many classes and, often, i'd spend my time on a piece of creative writing.

"today we're going to be analysing macbeth." he spoke, causing a sea of groans to occur.

unfortunately i was one of those as, whether i loved english or not, shakespeare was one of the most annoying topics to exist.

i hated having to analyse every small detail of a play, aside from when i was allowed to use highlighters and coloured pens, as it didn't hold my attention.

so, deciding that i couldn't allow myself to sit in the classroom for much longer, i put up my hand.

"yes logan?" he questioned, visibly annoyed that i was interrupting him.

my foot began to bounce beneath the table, a clear sign that i was anxious about having to speak infront of the class.

"can i go to the bathroom please?" i questioned.

he audibly sighed, showing me that he wasn't happy about my sudden need to leave after i'd only been there a short while.

however, thankfully for me, he nodded, signalling that i would be able to leave before my mind physically exploded.

i gathered my things quickly before exiting, pleased that i didn't have to sit through any more lessons with teachers talking at me.

yet it couldn't have been long before i felt that familiar aching in my wrist, forcing me quickly in the direction of the bathroom.

"fuck. fuck. fuck." i muttered, dropping myself down on the floor of the closest stall.

self harming wasn't something that i was proud of, it was more so a dirty little secret that i could never seem to get rid of.

yet, in the moment, i felt as though i had more control than i'd ever had in my entire life.

i pulled the blade out from the bottom of my pencil case, desperate to relieve the itching sensation that was buried beneath the skin on my wrist.

at first i only allowed myself to do one small line, as i was hopeful that it might relieve the sensation before it got too bad.

however the first one wasn't enough and i had no choice but to continue with what i'd already started.

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