I looked around. The floors, made of a soft light brown wood. His house looked average. It wasn't overly fancy. I mean YouTube is his job but he doesn't get a lot of income from his low amount of subscribers. That doesn't mean that they don't love him though. If you are a Markiplier subscriber you are most likely a fangirl of his. I mean with looks like Mark's how could you NOT be a fangirl.
"Let me show you your bedroom," Mark said as he pulled me off the couch, breaking me from my thoughts. He walked me into a room with a (f/c) (Favorite Color) queen sized bed. The walls were empty but at least they were (f/c). I looked over to him with a sincere smile.
"Thank you s-" I started.
"No need to thank me (y/n). Also, I know you probably want to decorate your room, and get clothes. So tomorrow we can go to the mall and you can get what you want," he said cutting me off.
"Oh ok. That would be great," I replied shyly.
"I'll give you some clothes to change into, just give me a sec," he said exiting the room and opening a door to another room, which I assume is his. He comes back waving a red long sleeve shirt that has a Markiplier logo on it, along with some black sweatpants. I quickly snatch the clothes from him, wink slyly, and swiftly shut the door. Leaving him confused.
I quickly and quietly strip off my clothes and look in the mirror. I look to my wrists then glance at my stomach. Ugly. Fat. Unloved. It's funny how three words can describe one thing. Me. I feel my body crumple up like a small tattered piece of paper. Slowly I sink down to the ground and sit. Cradling my arms and legs and rocking back and forth. Soft warm tears glide down my rough dry cheeks. Small sniffles come from my sadness stricken body.
Then 3 loud knocks come from the door. Mark's voice comes from the other side, "(Y/n) are you dressed?"
"No," I reply weakly.
"Please get dressed and come out here," he says, I sense a little sadness in his voice. I hear his feet distance themselves from the door, then I wipe my eyes, stand up, and throw on my clothes. I walk out to the living room and see Mark on the couch with his head in his hands.
This is my fault. I'm the reason why he's sad. I cause him pain. I ruin him. He's too good for me. I'm a burden.
Mark pats the seat next to him on the couch, "Come here." I quietly walk over sit next to him. He looks over at me and leans over to me until our faces are inches apart.
To be continued...
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Sad Type • Crankgameplays
Fanfiction[This book involves mentions of self-harm. Do not read if you are struggling with mental health] {This book is a bit rusty in the beginning, but please stick with it as I have improved with my writing} This is the story of (Y/N). - Leaving an abu...
