safe - h.s (EDITING)

nineteen

TRIGGER WARNING: self-harm

This chapter will be very dark and could be extremely harmful so please read at your own risk.

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It's days like these I hated. I hated the way my chest felt tight and under pressure. I hated the way thoughts filled my mind like an endless swirl pool of self-hatred and self-doubt. My body felt heavy. I felt weak. I felt numb. Nothing but my own head had caused the feelings the overwhelm me and that was the worst part about it.

You can't escape depression.

You can't escape your own head.

So that's why I'm laying here in Harry's bed on a Tuesday at 11 am, not moving from the position I woke up in hours ago. The thoughts consumed me and swallowed me whole. They took over not only my mental health but physical. It made my bones ache and my head throb with hurt and pain. My mind was in a constant screaming match with my heart and it never ended. I couldn't even cry. I couldn't even scream. I couldn't feel any emotion emit from my body because I just felt numb.

When Harry woke up he knew my mood had changed. He knew something shifted the second his eyes met mine. He asked if I was okay and I just told him the same thing I told everyone. 'I'm fine'. I was fine. At least that's what I told myself. I told myself I was fine and this was normal for everyone even though I knew damn fuckin well it wasn't.

I felt my skin crawl and the weight on my chest became more and more by the minute. It restricted my breathing and the movement of my eyes. I was lying flat on my back, staring at the white ceiling. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to let out any emotion I could but I just felt nothing and it made me want to scream and cry even more so. My mind drifted to my old habits. The things I did to feel again and they tempted me. They tortured me. They replayed in my mind like a record stuck on a loop. My mind was screaming at me to do them again. It was telling me to get up and feel something, anything at all.

I didn't even realize I had gotten up from my position on the bed and I was making my way to the bathroom. It was like I had no control over my own body. It was as if my demons had possessed me and carried my feet in whichever direction they chose. I looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't recognize myself. On days like these, I never did. It was like I was hollow inside as if my soul left my body. Like I was a shell of a human. I looked to the right of the basin and there it was. Right in front of as if it were a sign. A sign to place the cold metal against my skin once again.

My hand involuntarily grabbed the razor blade. I didn't want to do it but if I wanted to feel something, this was the only way I knew how. My breathing was rigid and heavy as if I was suffocating. That's what it felt like. I was suffocating. I was drowning in my own pain and hurt yet with no way to escape it. The way my limbs were heavy and my mind was foggy made it so much harder to resist the feeling. The feeling of well... feeling. I slowly inched my hand closer to my left wrist feeling adrenalin pump through me. I wanted to feel something. Anything at all. The blade was now a mere millimetre away from my left wrist when I paused when I heard a noise.

There he stood. Wide-eyed and terrified. His soft brown curls hung over his forehead as his green emerald eyes looked at me in shock. If I were in his shoes, I would too. His eyes travelled from my wrist up to meet my own eyes and I saw the pure terror in them. He didn't know. I never told him.

"Princess, what are you doing?" he says in a soft whisper not wanting to say the wrong thing. I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I should've locked the fucking door.

"Princess please put that down," he says in the same hushed tone and I shake my head. I didn't want to put it down. I wanted to drag it across my skin and feel the pain because it was the only thing I could feel. He took a step forward into the bathroom and I flinch, the blade pressing to my skin. It hadn't made a mark yet, but I felt it.