Dead by Daylight One Shots

Doctor x Fem!Depressed!Reader

Somewhere in the United States, years ago

The pile of textbooks in my arms teetered slightly as I tried to gain my balance. I slammed my locker shut with my hip, holding onto the textbooks tightly. I already had four thick hardcover ones in my backpack, leaving little room for my lunch. But I had the heaviest three here in my arms, my skinny frame barely being able to carry them all. The bell rang, and fellow teenagers front and centre scattered off to their classes. I did the same, rounding a corner only to run into someone. I collided with his firm chest, my frail body left falling to the lithium floor.

"Oh!" I squeaked as my textbooks fell from my grasp.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" I heard the teen I ran into ask.

I looked up shyly to be met with a handsome boy of colour. I blushed, quickly scrambling to my feet. The boy helped me in any way he could. He brushed off my shoulders and looked me over for injuries. I straightened myself up and flattened out the long dress I was wearing.

"I'm fine, thank you. I'm sorry. I wasn't being very careful." I laughed nervously.

The fellow teen flashed me a paper white grin. "It's fine." He then noticed my textbooks on the floor. "Oh! Here, let me help." He sprung into action.

The boy kneeled down and gathered the thick books in his arms with ease.

"Oh, thank you. You didn't need to do that." I said.

"Nonsense, here you go." He smiled again, handing me the books.

I cradled them to my chest bashfully.

"Thanks again." I repeated.

"It's not a problem. I'm Herman, by the way. Herman Carter." Herman stuck his hand out for me to shake.

I shook his hand and told him my own name.

"Nice meeting you." I said sheepishly.

"Likewise." Herman grinned almost like a madman.

He took in my features, glancing at every faded cut and scar I had on my slim face. His pretty blue eyes then trailed down to my neck, where a bandage was wrapped snug around it.

"What happened to your neck?" Herman asked.

I could tell he wanted to know about my other scars too. I had even more, but they were hidden by my dress. I instinctively touched my neck, stroking bruised flesh through the bandage.

"Oh, just an accident." I answered quickly. "Anyway, better go. See you later." I smiled and scurried off down the hall, disappearing into the sea of teenagers.

Class was very boring. I had slammed my textbooks onto the desk and slumped down in my chair tiredly. I rested my head in my hand as the teacher rambled on about something I was simply incapable of listening to. My mind drifted back to that Herman boy I bumped into in the halls. I thought of his dark hair, his daring smile and the cute turtleneck sweater he was wearing. I traced my neck again, wincing slightly at the big bruise adorned upon it. The truth was, it wasn't just an accident. I seemed to be stuck in a curse. Some sort of lively limbo. What was it, you asked?

No matter how many times I tried, I just couldn't die.

Every single day of my young life, I tried and tried to commit suicide. Injections? I'd blackout but then wake up and be fine. Slitting my wrists? All it ever did was leave big ugly scars (hence why I always wore long sleeves). Jumping off buildings? Nothing but a broken leg or arm. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I just fucking die? My latest attempt was yesterday. There I stood on a chair in the middle of my bedroom. I tied a noose around the ceiling fan, and then wrapped it tightly around my skinny neck. I kicked the chair, and there I hanged.