the edge

1.

delilah

"my name is delilah and im currently two months clean. after three years of constantly self harming i finally feel like i don't need to do that to myself in order to cope with things."

everyone in the small circle clapped and smiled at me but I knew it was all fake. the one thing we all had in common was that we were receiving help we didn't want. i was content with hurting myself whenever i felt like it, my mom not so much. she dumped me here around four months ago. i spent my weekends in this dump with ten other kids who didn't want to be here. i was allowed to go home on the weekdays so i could stay in school, they recommended that things be 'as normal as possible', as if spending my weekends in a mental hospital was normal.

i glanced at everyone else in the room and noticed a new boy sitting awkwardly next to our group therapist. he had dark brown hair and he was paler than me, which was saying something. the therapist glanced over at him and i noticed he was shaking slightly, i usually didn't pity anyone here because i didn't want pity, but I couldn't help but feel bad for him.

he slowly sat up and started to speak, "my name's branson and i haven't tried to kill myself in two days." he slouched back down in his chair and avoided everyone's stares while the therapist continued her 'things get better' speech, which only made me want to scream.

after twenty minutes passed she finally let us go to have 'free time', which was really just everyone sitting in a large room with mismatched chairs and large bookshelves filled with random board games and books nobody had ever heard of. i usually sat alone in the corner just waiting for them to call us to dinner. i was sitting in my usual chair and staring out the large window when i could feel someone standing behind me. i turned around and it was the boy from earlier. he looked so out of place that i offered him the seat next to me, which i instantly regretted. i couldn't let myself get close to anyone in here because it wasn't guaranteed that they'd come out of this alive. hell, i didn't even know if i would come out of this alive. the only reason i'm staying clean is to get myself out of here, i'll be eighteen in six months and then my mom won't be able to force me to do this.

"So how long have you been here?"

i stared at him for at least a minute before i replied, "four months."

i turned back towards the window and almost immediately he began speaking again.

"do you think you're gonna get out soon?" it was the same question i was asked after my first month here, the only difference being the person who'd asked me the first time wasn't here anymore. i suddenly felt like the walls were closing in on me and i couldn't see properly.

"hey are you okay? i didn't mean to upset you, i was just trying to make conversation. my mom thinks making friends would be good for me and i know she's gonna ask them if i made any friends and you're the only person who seemed nice enough so-"

"i can't do this- you're gonna have to find someone else to be your friend." i stood and walked over to the bathroom and sat there until they called us for dinner.

a/n: ive never written anything not based on 5sos or 1d so i hope this isn't too crappy

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