Self-Harm Imagines

Luke Hemmings

I run into English class, out of breath from running 3 blocks and 6 flights of stairs. All heads turn towards me, including the teacher's, making my cheeks red at the sudden attention. "(Y/N), why are you late?" My teacher asks. I open my mouth to respond but I can't form coherent words to say. "Whatever, sit down and get out your homework."

I walk into my chair in the back of the class, setting my bag down carefully and opening my binder. I look through the paper messily stuffed inside, searching for my essay, yet I can't find it anywhere. I gasp silently, realizing that I left it at home when I left. Oh no oh no oh no I panic in my head. "Pass your essays to the front." The teacher says. The class follows suite as I close my binder and bite my lip. "(Y/N), where is your essay" my teacher demands. I lower my head, as I never liked direct attention. I whisper out, "I-I left it at home.." As she stands next to me. "You left it at home? I'm quite sure I said it was due today." She says smirking "I-I'm sorry" I whisper. "I'm sure you are" The teacher walks to her desk as some snickering and laughing a few rows in front of me. "Oh look, little nerd forgot her work, that's a first." "What are you gonna do, go cry? Who's stopping you?" "We've all seen your scars, why don't you just end it already?"

I bite my lip harshly at the hurtful words being spoken about me, trying not to make a scene. The bell rings finally freeing me from first class. I pack up as quickly as I can with tears running down my face silently. I grab my bag and run out the front doors of the school, not caring about anyone or anything at this moment. I run home as fast as I can, opening the front door to my apartment, the smell of smoke filling my lungs. "What the HELL do you think you're doing?! You're supposed to be in school!" My mother yells at me. "I will not have a dropout daughter. Its bad enough you can't do anything right, hell you weren't even supposed to be born. You were a mistake. I used you for marriage. I knew if I was pregnant your father couldn't resist my proposal." She spits at me. "You were nothing but a lie." I sob uncontrollably at her words. "JUST SHUT UP OKAY?!" I yell at her. "You have no idea what its like for me!" "Don't you DARE raise your voice to me!" She storms over to me and slaps me across the face, making me fall over and yelp in pain. "Go to your fucking room you slut. I don't want to see you again." I run quickly to my room, throwing my backpack onto the floor and running into the bathroom. I grab my blade that I keep behind the cupboard and drag the razor across the skin on my wrist, letting the blood trickle down into the floor. The pain is just a release. I repeat in my head. I grab heartburn medicine bottle shakily, still sobbing quietly. I grab my phone out of my pocket with the other,wanting recording my final video. I unlock the screen, showing a picture of Luke, my boyfriend of 2 and a half years. It shows I have several messages from him.

Hey is everything okay? I didn't see you in second.

Hello?

I read his messages crying, dropping my phone onto the floor, struggling to open the bottle.

"Hello? (Y/N)? Princess are you here?" His voice floods through my mostly empty room. I don't respond, I struggle more with the bottle screaming quietly that it won't open. "(Y/N)?" The door flies open, a terrified Luke seeing the scene. "It won't open!" I yell, twisting and turning the cap. "Y/N STOP!" He snatches the bottle away from me as I collapse onto the floor sobbing. "Are you fucking crazy?!" He yells at me throwing the pills across my room. "What did we say about this (Y/N)." He sits down next to me. "Remember these?" Luke lifts his arm up to my face and rolls up his sleeve, showing his faded scars. "Remember what we said after these?" He asks gently. I nod weakly at him, remembering our promise we made. The promise to never do anything we would regret.

Luke reaches over me and gets the first aid kit and sets it on the ground. "You could've just texted me.." He whispers as he takes my arm carefully and wraps my wrist gently. I sniffle quietly and keep my head down. "I still love you." He says lifting my head gently to meet his beautiful blues. "I l-love you too, Luke." I whisper.

"How about we go to my place yeah? We can call that our home for a while." He asks softly. I nod gently at him as he picks me up carefully, walking me to his car, leading me to my recovery and happiness with him.