Watch me read you X reader

25. January 10th

December 3, 2018

It's been a week since Peter stopped talking to me. Mr Stark said it would be okay and when we eventually find out what's controlling me everything will go back to normal. Just between myself and this book, Mr Stark isn't as strong and harsh as he sometimes seems to be. He's completely different in the complex than he is in the press. Any way, Steve has left. I don't know when he's coming back, or if he even is coming back, but he just kinda disappeared without saying anything. It made me upset obviously, and I still am, I just wish he had said goodbye...

December 18, 2018

I no longer control myself

It's as though I hold the pen but am being told what to write.

The sun has fallen and risen many times before but now I find it difficult

to open my eyes in the morning and cope.

I has lost everything.

My friends.

My family.

Myself.

I am falling off a cliff that doesn't end.

January 6, 2019

I'm finding it hard to keep going. Mr Stark is no longer allowing me to leave the house. No one is allowed to come over and I'm not allowed to use my phone either. I have been completely cut off from the outside world. Peter still refuses to talk to me, I haven't even seen him around the tower for the last 4 weeks. It's getting harder to hold back the shaking and sweating, I've practically bitten my nails down to the bone. It just doesn't seem to be getting better. My muscles keep spasming and when people talk to me I lash out sometimes, I don't know why I'm still here.

January 9, 2019

I have decided I am going to leave the complex. I can't stand putting everyone in danger anymore. It's got to the point I have to be strapped down to my bed at night so I don't get out. Two days ago I held a knife to Thor's throat, I had to be contained after that and wear a straight jacket. But obviously I'm out of that now. It is better for everyone if I leave and I don't think there could be anything to change my mind.

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I woke up from my sleep, still set on what I was going to do. My arms and legs were stretched out over the bed, making me do a starfish. Iris alerted the new house maid and she came to let me out. About a week or two ago, Mr Stark got someone to constantly look after me. She only really needed to get me out of bed, make sure I eat, stop me when I start to loose control and detain me. As soon as she loosens the wrist guards I sit up and rub my wrists. The red marks from thrashing around made themselves prominent, matching themselves with red scratches from me trying to inch my skin.

I knew I wasn't getting better weeks ago. You could see it in my eyes, my stupid vacant eyes with little lightning bolts of red running around the whites. I barely had nails anymore, my skin constantly bruised and bleeding. It was obvious. I wasn't me anymore.

I got up from my bed and walked over to my wardrobe, I stuffed a few shirts into my bag, mainly training singlets. Then a couple pairs of pants and jumpers. I slip on my shoes and make my way to the bathroom. I tie my braking hair into a high ponytail and grab a bunch of different sanitary things to put in my bag. As soon as I zip it up I throw it over my back, staring at myself in the mirror. I looked like an alien, probably unrecognisable as a person let alone a girl. I sprint out the door and leave a little piece of paper on the counter top for the Avengers and Mr Stark. When I reach the front gate of the compound I look back. A tear forms in my eye remembering all the things that I had done since I got here, what Peter and I had done, what we'd said. I couldn't help but burst into tears as I walked away from the place I'd called home for the last 6 months.