Patrick Stump Imagines

Let Me Show You

Trigger warning: this imagine is... Well, a pretty serious one. If you get triggered because of anything that involves suicide, I wouldn't read this one. If you're unsure about reading, then don't read it, okay? Just please don't read it if your trigger by suicide or suicidal thoughts or stuff like that.

Where did it all go wrong? Well, my list goes on and on and on. For me, it all started when I was born, mostly because I wish I wasn't. I'm getting nothing from being alive in this world. All it's doing is making me feel worse and worse.

I stared down at the long cake knife in my hands. Only one big long cut, and it'll all be over. None of my family was home. My dad was at work, my mom went to get groceries, and my siblings all went to their friends house. This was the perfect time to finally end it.

I brought the knife to the end of my wrist. One big slice, that's it. It'll all be over. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and pressed the tip of the knife down, sliding it down to my forearm. In only a few minutes, I'll be dead. At least that's what I thought.

When I opened my eyes, I saw no open flesh. My arm was completely fine. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I brought the tip of the knife back to my wrist, and sliced again. Still nothing. I just wanted it all to end. Why can't I just end my misery now?! Once again, I brought the knife back to my wrist.

"Are you really sure you want to do this, Y/N," a soft voice sounded from behind me. My grip tightened around the knife. I didn't want anyone taking me out of this. Tears started to swarm my eyes as I slide the knife down my arm once again, with nothing happening. "...Y/N?" The voice called me.

I turned my head slowly around to look at the person talking to me. He was short, not quite chubby, with a leather jacket, and a fedora sitting upon his reddish-brown hair the swooped gently to the side. His hands were folded I front of him like a soldiers, and his blue eyes seemed sad. I got up from the floor, dropping the knife, and turned to him.

"Who the fuck are you and why are you here?" I asked him bitterly.

"Well, Y/N..." He started to walk towards me slowly. With each stephe took, I backed away. When he noticed he wasn't making any progress he stopped moving. "I'm an angel," the man almost whispered to me. My eye brows furrowed in confusion.

"If your an angel, then where are your w-".

And right before my eyes (and before I could finish my sentence,) wings sprung from the mans upper back. Pure white feathers spread around my small room, just about engulfing me. His wings were huge and beautiful. Not all were they pure white, but at the tip of each flight feather, the color turned to a sparkling silver. And when I say these wings were huge, I mean they were huuge. Larger than a vultures wing span. Large than a giant eagles wing span.

The man stared at me while I marveled at his wings. A slight smile was spread across his face, probably happy that he shut me up. I shook my head, and stared back at the man.

"You still never answered why your here," I told him. He nodded his head and retracted his wings.

"I've come here to talk to you." I let out a frustrated sigh, and that made him look defeated. "Y/N..." He started. "Do you know what happens when you... Die?" He asked me slowly,  hoping it would sink in quickly. But I just shrugged my shoulder at him.

"Depending on what you believe in, you go where ever the religion says you do."

"No," he sighed, looking me straight in the eyes. "I mean what happens on Earth." I didn't respond. "Can I take you some where, Y/N?" Before I could even make a noise, he jerked forward, grabbed me around the waist, and spread his wings. And then in a blink of an eye, he flew us straight through the ceiling, into another dimension.