Story cover for Dancing with Depression by ANerdWithASecret
Dancing with Depression
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  • WpView
    Reads 78
  • WpVote
    Votes 1
  • WpPart
    Parts 5
  • WpHistory
    Time 6m
Ongoing, First published Nov 24, 2017
Mature
Dancing with the devil is a common phrase, but who is he? To others he's a figment of their imagination, a childhood tale told as a tactic to discipline children. But to me? He was me. I was dancing a duet without a partner, fighting against myself for the lead. Fighting to live and ultimately dancing the line of death.


These are just a couple diary like entries that I write to help me get through the day :/

Trigger warning~ I think anyway.
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He's obsessed, insane even. He has to know her, watch her, touch her. She's his, and nothing will stop him. But she's smarter than he thinks.. ••• "You call me if he bothers you ever again, yeah?" "It's really nothing I-" he cuts me off "You'll call me." He says firmer "okay?" "Okay" I say softly, looking up at him. He's so fucking close to me. We just stand there for a moment and I'm having trouble remembering how to breathe. He leans closer, gently tilting my head up so that my eyes stay on him. "Good girl"