Smuts and Fluff ✨ (READ DESCRIPTION)

Ending It - One Shot

TW /// cutting / suicide / attempting

~

This was it. Everyone had left me. I was on my own. Nothing had ever hurt me so badly. And god, how badly wanted it to stop.

So after crying for hours and staring at the ceiling, I made my decision.

I walked over to my desk, and pulled out the razor blade. It was shiny, and sleek, and sharp, as I put my finger on the edge.

I was scared. I was so fucking scared. But I was more scared of living another day. More scared of disappointing another person I cared about.

I took a deep breath. It would all be over soon. I hesitated. I drew my hand back away from my other arm. I thought, and thought, and thought, for what seemed like hours.

But as I built up my courage, I acted before I could think any longer. I gripped the blade and pushed it deep into my forearm, pulling it down my arm, making a long, deep, cut. I grunted and my breath quivered as I heaved.

I put the blade in my opposite hand as my fingers quivered violently with agony. I did the same thing to my other arm, not as successfully, but it would have to do.

I breathed fast, and my hands shook as I dropped the bloody razor blade, it falling to the floor and making my carpet a pretty red hue.

I stood there and looked down at my wrists as blood dropped off my arms and onto the ground.

After a few moments, the agony seemed like more than I could bear, and regret came piling in. I still wanted to die, but this hurt more than I could've ever imagined. And although I tried my hardest to ignore the pain, it was overwhelming.

I found myself swaying and lulling to the side as my mind became fuzzy and I became dizzy. I tripped and fell to the floor, attempted to catch myself, but my arms collapsed. I couldn't manage to hold myself up.

But it would all be over soon. This couldn't last for much longer. So I stared up at the feeling in defeat, and wished for the end to come sooner.

~

I heard loud beeping. I was drowsy and cold. I blinked and squinted as I tried to make out my surrounding. From what I could put together, I was in a hospital.

The room was very bright and it made it hard to see. I looked down at my arms, seeing that they were bandaged up. I felt weak.

I didn't see anyone in the room. I didn't want there to be. I didn't want anyone to see me like this.

But god, it didn't work. It didn't fucking work. I thought it was over. I still wished it was. I tried to make a fist, but it was excruciating, even with all the drugs I must've been on.

I looked up at the ceiling and allowed the tears to fall down my cheeks. I felt guilty. Someone had to have found me for me to have ended up here.

I jumped as the door opened, in walking my best friend. Well, not anymore. I thought she hated me... I didn't know why she was here.

"Oh my god, Monty... I'm so glad you're okay." she said as she rushed to my side.

I'm not.

I kept silent not knowing what to say, and hoping she didn't notice the tears on my cheeks. I wasn't able to wipe them off. I couldn't move my fingers, let alone my arms.

"Monty I'm sorry about everything. I love you so much. You have no idea how worried I was."

I still kept quiet.

I still wished it had worked.

•

hey loves. i haven't been doing well recently. I'm sorry for writing this, this isn't normally something i would be writing... but i was having some extremely bad thoughts and urges, and in order to not act them out, i tried to write out what i wanted to do instead, thinking maybe it would help. it kinda did, i guess. anyway, i love you all.