The art of love (Oikawa x suicidal reader)

Chapter 9

For once, everything was good. For once, everything was ok.

But of course, nothing ever goes my way.

~~~The next day, before school~~~

I haven't even made it to school, and already I am confronted by a group of three girls. I recognise one of them as the girl who asked me draw Oikawa in a skirt way back. I get a lump in my throat just thinking about it.

At first, I think there here for another art request, but I am greatly mistaken.

Without warning, I am grabbed by the arms and collar and dragged into an alleyway. I desperately scream for help.

"Help!!! Oikawa-" my screams are muffled as a hand pressed over my mouth. Tears begin to stream from my face as i am pressed firmly up against a wall.

The tallest of the three girls grabs my hair and pulls my head up to look at her in the eyes.

"Yeah, go on, sream for your precious Oikawa. See if he comes."

I am frozen in fear and confusion, and my eyes are blurry from tears.

"You really think he gives a shit about you? Of course not. Who would like you, you disgusting little slut."

As she said that, she thrust her knee hard into my stomach, making me fall to the ground and whimper in pain. The three girls stand over me, looking down at me with the most hatred full expression I'd ever seen.

Then, they go over to my school bag, which was thrown on the flooor, and reach inside. One of them pull out my camera. Mom's camera.

No. Please no.

I try to whimper oit to get them to stop, but its too late. In an istant, the camra is smacked againts the wall, and peices of glass fall to the ground like raindrops.

What was happening? Why were they doing this?

"You know what, seeing you prance around him, acting all fake depressed to guilt him into liking you, makes me sick. Everyone would be happier if you just killed yourself. Including him."

The words sank deep, and stung. Is what they're saying true? Is he really only being nice to me because he feels sorry for me?

Would he be happier if I were dead?

The three girls turn, and leave me there. I watch as they walk back I to the light of day, as I lay on the ground, sobbing. All is quiet, but my mind is full of loud and horrible voices.

He hates you. He is disgusted by you. He wouldn't care if you were dead.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!

Kill yourself. If will be so easy, so quick. All the pain will go away.

The words spin round and round my head, repeating like a broken record. I am consumed by my thoughts, hypnotised by the calming thought of finally slipping away. I believe everything they said. I believe everything my dad said. I'd be better off dead.

I bring out my razor blade from my school bag, and stare longingly at the blood-stained metal.

I hold the cool blade against the skin of my wrist. My stomach tightens at the pain I'm about to endure.

Then I do it.

I press down hard and suddenly slash at my wrist. The pain is sharp and extreme, but satisfying. The crimson blood begins to run down my arm.

I cut more, and deeper. I think of all the times I spent with him. At school. At the treehouse. At my mums grave. It all seemed so pointless and stupid now.

Eventually, I had cut so much I felt I couldn't cut anymore. Just as I was about to accept my fate, I felt footsteps, running closer.

"Y/N! Y/N"  a distant voice, one I recognised, drew nearer.

Oikawa.

Just as I realised who it was, I became light headed and fell to the ground, a puddle of blood forming at my wrist.

I felt Oikawa kneeling down beside me.

Why. Why did he have to see me now. I did this for him.

I can hear he's on the phone to someone, although I can barely make out the words. I feel him press his hand against the side of my cheek, and it's shaky.

I dont consecrate on what he's saying, instead I look up at the sky. Above the walls of the alleyway, there isnt a cloud to be seen, only a blue canvas. I can feel a gentle cool breeze against my body. The pain in my arm seems comforting, and Oikawa's touch feels warm and nice.

Right now, I wouldn't mind dying. I allow my thoughts to slip away, until all that's left is the sound of Oikawa's panicked voice.

"No, no! Stay awake! Please, dont die on me!"

It sounds like he's crying. Maybe he really did care after all.

But it's too late.

'I'm sorry...' I think, and with that, I let myself drift away.