You (YouTube One-Shots)

PMA

(This one I'm giving a trigger warning. It deals with depression and suicide and I don't want to trigger anybody. ♡

Also a one-shot without smut.)

I shouldn't be doing this.

But you were, weren't you? Staring at the ceiling, eyes unblinking, going dryer and dryer the longer you stared. The weight on your chest was unbearable, far too heavy and cumbersome to move. Not that you would have wanted to.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat having long passed. You hardly moved, almost paralyzed with the lack of emotion inside you. You felt nothing.

I really shouldn't be doing this but I don't feel like moving.

The temptation was ever present. Such was it that your condition came with those thoughts, as appealing as they were. How easy it would be to simply leave everything behind. To cut the cord, so to speak.

You closed your eyes. You were drowning in the terrible weight that was pulling you down, sinking further into the bed. There were no tears, but you wished there were. After all, it wasn't always the crying that felt the worst; it was this.

Being numb.

Your stomach growled loudly; you had forgotten to eat. Again. Did you want to get up and fix something? No. But the growling was persistent and painful, and slowly you roused yourself from the stupor you had fallen into, sitting up and clutching your head. A couple of days without food and you had gained nothing but a whopper of a headache.

Slowly you made your way into the little kitchen area. You knew what resided in your cupboards, but to humor yourself you opened them anyway. There was nothing suitable for sustenance; you would have to go out to grab something.

Looking down at yourself you wondered if you had the strength to get dressed properly.

I guess we'll see.

It took an eternity to make it back to your bedroom. Your bed was calling out to you, wanting you back. And you wanted nothing more than to sink back down for another couple of hours until at last exhaustion made you sleep. But food was a must, so you pulled on a pair of jeans, faded and torn, and an oversized hoodie with the hood pulled up. You didn't bother with trying to fix your hair; who the fuck cared about it? Not you.

You glanced in the mirror and immediately hated the being staring back at you. Heavy bags under the eyes, a sallow expression across the face. Eyes that had known horrors, had seen too many days of feeling numb to the world.

Slipping into a pair of shoes you swallowed hard, realizing that going out into public was probably the worst idea you could come up with, but you weren't giving yourself much of a choice.

Besides, even if you ran into someone that you knew, you would simply pass it off as the flu. It was flu season after all, and considering how awful you knew you looked, it would be an easy thing to pass along.

●■●■●

The air was crisp but not too cold. Perfect for walking down to the corner store alone. It was dark, but you found no reason to care. A bell dinged overhead as you stepped into the shop, but the cashier didn't even look up from whatever they were doing to acknowledge you. And really, that suited you just fine.

A slight frown on your face you wandered the aisles aimlessly, stopping at a display of pre-made sandwiches and salads and all the deli sort of things that you typically wouldn't have bought. But for not having any food in some time, you guessed that something nutritious was in order. As bland as it was going to be.