Make Me

»dullness

A/N this chapter has a lot of depression and suiciding (well this whole book is about depression) and if it makes you sad then please just skip this chapter because it's all about that. When people are sad then I am sad ):

P.S: the picture up there^ is how stiles looks like. You can imagine him in your own way.

Okay, I'm done you can read now.

***

"Good morning Angela," I smiled at my only parent figure and hugged her. She laughed and said, "Well, someone is quite happy today."

I quietly laughed  and skipped over to the table; waiting for the fresh omelette to be served. The kitchen's windows were open so I could hear the birds chirping while they were passing by our house.

While I was devouring my break fast I thought about Alison. How she reacted yesterday when she saw Stiles, her face showed utter angriness and I could see traces of betrayal in her eyes. Crystal small tears were trailing down her flushed cheeks. I just wanted to run to her and hug the life out of her. But my legs just couldn't move they were glued to the floor like statues. And Stiles, he didn't do a single thing. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, why didn't he even react? He just had to stand there and was himself. Stupid and naive. I scoffed and stood up to wash my plate.

The memory of what happened yesterday doesn't make me sad. It makes me mad at myself. Mad at myself because I didn't put any effort on trying to help her. "Maybe that's why you don't have friends, nothingness." A little voice in the back of my head said and I grunted in frustration. This whole scenario is too much to take in for me, it just gets me more mad and I can't be mad at myself all the time. What happened is in the past now. If Alison doesn't want to be friends with me I understand. Who wants to be friends with me even? I sighed and looked around the bright room.

Angela might have already left the kitchen to go and change because I didn't see her in the kitchen. I sighed and thought to myself, "happy day, yeah right." I walked back upstairs and scrolled through my Instagram, well half of my feed was filled with shoutouts. I really need to unfollow some people. While I was checking my "message requests" in direct message I saw one typical fuckboy trying to show of their "9-inch dick." I rolled my eyes and replied to him,

go have a life please. (: and don't you know that the "9-inch dick" lie will not help you get the nudes you want? aw boo-hoo

I laughed but it wasn't a real laugh, it was forced and unreal. I'm lying to myself that I'm fine, I'm trying to push all of my sadness and feelings away in to the deep dark corner of my mind. And all of it is now piling up, slowly and leisurely and I can't hold it anymore. I can't hold my tears anymore. I can't lie to myself anymore. I just can't.

I fell on my back in my bed and closed my eyes.

I can't breath properly.

I can't think properly.

Panic attack.

I sat up and fell of the bed, what am I even doing?

Breathe.

I can't breathe.

Think.

I can't think.

Do something.

I can't.