𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 [✓]

2. Beautiful

I took a bit of inspiration from Jack and Jack's song 2 Cigarettes. Here's the verse:

Outta control, that was after I got off of the road

You hadn't seen me in like, 45 days

I could tell it in your face

Yes, something was up

My arms opened wide

Open, waiting for you to jump

But you just walked up slow

Nah, wait, this ain't the girl I know

C'mon, where she at?

Give her back

Just makin' my jokes, didn't even crack a smile, damn

That's all it took for me to know there was another man

It's all downhill

This imagine contains a lot of sensitive topics so read at your own risk.

Warnings: Self-harm, depression, suicidal thoughts, eating disorder, light smut

I stood by the counter, glaring at the mirror through my tears. Stupid. Worthless. Disgusting.

Why was I even alive? I couldn't find an answer. My hands shook as I took the bottle of pills in my hands. Blood still ran down my wrists from what I'd done earlier. The pain didn't affect me at all. I was nothing but a swirling void of emptiness. I didn't deserve Daniel. And his fans made sure I knew that.

I'd been avoiding him. The hate had increased after he'd left on tour a month and a half ago. And I'd begun to believe what those people told me. The first week of Daniel's tour I'd stayed strong. Facetimed him nearly every day. But then I began to break down and I couldn't bare to see his face, terrified that he'd be disappointed or disgusted. So I began to call him, a couple times a week. And when even his voice made me want to cry I texted him maybe two or three times a week, saying I was busy or tired or my friends were over. That last one was a laugh. I didn't have any friends. Only Daniel.

I started cutting about two or three weeks into his tour. Starvation came after that. I wasn't eating, not moving most days, except to go to the bathroom. I'd lost my will. I thought I'd beaten the depression that had eaten away at me in high school. I guess not.

I poured out a handful of pills into my shaking hand, looking at my phone. One text. One call. That's all it would take to make me reconsider.

Who was I kidding? Who was going to text me? I didn't have any friends, any family. All I had was Daniel who was touring halfway across the world. A ragged sob wrung from my lips as I raised my hand.

The door to mine and Daniel's apartment slammed down the hall.

"Y/N?" Daniel called.

The pills went everywhere as I jumped. He wasn't due back for another week. I yanked down the sleeves to my sweater to hide my scars and walked out of our room.

"Y/N!" Daniel dropped his duffel bag and opened his arms for me.

My lip began trembling and I put my head down, hair sliding over my shoulders. I approached Daniel, not speaking.