Bughead Oneshots

Why?

Tw- heavy mentions of suicidal thoughts. Please don't read if that makes you uncomfortable. Also hope you enjoy :) I really like this chapter!

Betty's Pov

Ugh. Really? Again with this situation?

Right now, I'm standing in front of my mirror. This is a good thing for healthy regular people. But for a girl like me, it's bad. It's a world of hurt. A world of critiques and comments and I need to be just as critical as the real world.

Okay I get it. Standing in the mirror and downgrading myself isn't exactly the best thing to do, but it's not like I do it on purpose, or enjoy it. I just have self image issues.

But I mean who wouldn't have self image issues if they looked like me?

Yellow hair pulled back too tight into a high ponytail. But I can't leave it down, otherwise it looks like I haven't cared for it for a week.

My clothes are too bright. They draw too much attention to me. I'd look better in a black hoodie or one of Jugs flannels.

I'm too skinny. I get told that all the time by multiple people- my mom and Jughead being the #1 people that poke me to eat. But it's hard for me, and that's something thy could never understand. I'm horrible at eating like I should, and I wish more than anything that I could. Maybe then I wouldn't be so tiny. But, here we are.

I'm too small. I know I can't do much about that, but how am I supposed to have a voice when I'm only 5'3? How am I supposed to be noticed or treated with respect?

I feel tears beginning to sting my eyes. I look up at them. I look so tired. Tired doesn't match my clothes. Tired matches the rest of my worn out body. It's like my clothes are trying to turn me into a different person, but my body can't be that person. I sigh and try a smile, see if that will Change anything. But, no. It just makes it worse. A tear escapes from my eye and I push it away violently.

No. I need to stay strong. I take a deep breath and straighten my back. No boobs. I turn to the side, showing off my side view. Ugh I look like a string bean. No butt.

Why the hell would anyone want this? I'm such a fuck up. Such a mess. How could anyone ever love me?

I pull up my sleeves to look at my wrists. Stare at the marks I've left behind from other times I've felt like this. Other times I've felt hopeless or ugly or used. My eyes well up with more tears as I look in the mirror again.

Is this really what I've become? A pathetic girl that cuts because she's not 100% happy? Why am I like this? Why do I do this to myself? "You did this!" I scream at my mirror, letting all my anger shine through as I show my mirror image the cuts it caused me. "You made me do this! God you're so UGLY! I hate you!" I scream before punching the reflection of myself right in the face.

The glass cracks and lands all over in little shards on my floor. Tears continuously stream from my eyes as I bend down to take a piece, and lay on my bed. "WORTHLESS!" I scream as I slice my wrist, reopening an old scar.

"Ugly! Useless! Bitch! Hag!" I keep screaming name after name, slicing cut after cut on my wrist.

Soon one words turn into phrases and multiple cuts at a time.

"You're so ugly! Nobody loves you! Nobody cares if you die! Just bleed out, everyone would be happier!" I shout as tears break my voice. I'm letting my thoughts speak up, and it's scary.

"You deserve nothing!" I continue, until I've finally had enough. I've lost the battle with myself. I throw the piece of glass at my wall and curl up in my bed as I watch the blood slowly ooze out of my fresh cuts, sighing as I feel the sting they've left behind. Regret begins to overflow my emotions.