𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 || 𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘫.

𝟐𝟖

contains
hinting of attempted suicide
mentions of suicide
________________________________

I didn't acknowledge him, instead I lowered down the volume of my cries.

I heard him take a seat next to me on the floor. He put his hand around me, which I immediately removed.

"What's wrong, love?"

"You don't have a right to call me that." My voice was laced with anger. My words came out muffled, but loud enough for him to hear.

"Did something happen?"

"I don't know, did something happen, Eren?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."

"Go."

"Go where?"

"Somewhere else. How about you go run to her?"

"Who are you talking about?"

I finally pulled my head out of my knees. I leaned my head up to the ceiling.

"I don't know Eren, maybe the girl you love. You know, the one since 7th grade?"

"How do you know about that?"

"It doesn't matter how I know. So go. Go to her."

"Y/n-," I interrupted him.

"I'm so tired. I'm not even trying for myself at this point. 'm trying for everyone else. I try for everyone else but myself. I'm done. I'm finally done with everything Eren. I'm done with it all. I'm tired."

"Well if you ever need to talk, I'm here-," I interrupted him again.

"You won't be , though. You'll be with her. I don't have anyone anymore. I'm alone. I lost all my friends, all because of me. I'm the problem. I think problems require solutions. So if you excuse me, I'll be leaving now. Um I don't think I'm going to answer my phone though, so maybe just a goodbye would work."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Like I said, though, I'm still here."

"Bye Eren. For good this time."

I gave him a hug before walking away. I didn't care that Eren was trying to catch up to me. Like I said, I was done. This wasn't because of Eren. It was all my fault. I'm the only one to blame for the way I felt.

I walked outside the school and went to my car. I knew my mom was going to get a call about me walking out later, I didn't care, though. I didn't care about anything. There was no amount of weed I could smoke to get rid of it all. There was no solution for the way I felt, except the alternative.

The thing I always turned to in moments like these. I wasn't going to commit suicide over a boy, though. That's not why I was like this. Everything was always bottled up, and I realized sooner or later that I was going to end up committing. It was always something I thought about. I had actually been proud of myself for not thinking about committing suicide for a couple of weeks, just for this to happen. Small triggers, things, flipped my mood. Like I said in the beginning, I allowed my emotions to control me. There was always the possibility of me not waking up the next day due to my own actions. It was scary, yet I never talked about it with anyone. I had been fighting for a long time, a battle I knew I wasn't going to end up winning in the end. A battle that I was done fighting.