𝙞 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚.

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hi!! im gonna be putting songs at the beginning of each chapter. like, songs i think match the chapters and you can listen to them while reading if you want <3 

also a giant warning for depression and bulimia. this book is gonna be angsty and ill add warnings as we go.

depression, like an unrelenting weight upon your shoulders, pressed down with an unforgiving force

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depression, like an unrelenting weight upon your shoulders, pressed down with an unforgiving force. its tendrils wrapped around your thoughts, smothering any flicker of joy or hope. it was a constant companion, lurking in the shadows, whispering venomous doubts and self-loathing into your ears.

bulimia, too, had become an insidious presence in your life—a relentless battle with food and self-control. the cycle of binging and purging had become a twisted comfort, a way to momentarily escape the pain that gnawed at your soul. but with every indulgence, the guilt and shame grew stronger, threatening to suffocate any semblance of self-worth.

as the night unfolded, you found yourself caught in a secret ritual—a desperate dance of secrecy and longing. the fridge door creaked open, revealing an array of tempting treats. with shaky hands, you reached out, seeking solace in the fleeting pleasure that food could provide.

one by one, you plucked items from their places—a sugary confection, a savory delight, a mix of flavors that provided a fleeting solace. each bite was a desperate attempt to fill the void, to drown out the noise of your inner demons. the taste exploded upon your tongue—a bittersweet symphony of pleasure and regret. it was a temporary salve, a fleeting comfort that whispered, "you're not alone."

but amidst the cacophony of flavors and sensations, a flicker of awareness pierced through the haze. tomorrow was the harvest moon festival—an annual celebration of abundance and prosperity. it was a time when the imps of the wrath ring gathered to witness the true harvest moon. the realization struck you like a bolt of lightning, electrifying your senses with a surge of panic. how could you face the festivities with the leftovers of your mistakes clinging to your being? the mere thought sent a shiver down your spine.

a sense of urgency propelled you forward. with shaky hands and a mind clouded by fear, you hurried to the bathroom, the world around you blurring in a whirlwind of desperation. the cool tiles greeted your socked feet as you knelt before the porcelain altar—the toilet bowl, your sanctuary, your confidant. it became a vessel into which you poured your anguish, your shame, and your regrets. the sound of retching echoed in the stillness of the night—a haunting symphony of release and despair.

as the storm within subsided, leaving you feeling hollow and exhausted, you retreated to your room—a sanctuary tainted by the aftermath of your struggles. the air felt heavy with a sense of resignation as you performed the familiar rituals of self-care. the hot water cascaded over your body, washing away not only the physical remnants of your binge but also the invisible weight that burdened your soul. it was a momentary reprieve, a fleeting sensation of purity amidst the chaos.

with tender care, you brushed your teeth, each stroke a small act of self-love and discipline. the taste of mint mingled with the bitterness of regret—a bitter reminder of the battles fought within. It was a futile attempt to erase the past, to rid yourself of the stains that marred your spirit.

exhaustion settled over you like a heavy blanket as you slipped beneath the cool sheets of your bed. sleep, that difficult thing, should have been a welcome escape—a temporary respite from the whirlwind of emotions. but your mind refused to let you rest, their whispers persistent and unrelenting. restless thoughts swirled, entwining with the tendrils of darkness that stretched across the room.

the night stretched on, its minutes stretching into eternity. time seemed to lose all meaning as you lay tangled in the web of your emotions—and a longing for solace. the darkness embraced you, a constant companion as you wrestled with the fragility of your own mind. it was a solitary battle, fought within the depths of your own consciousness, with no clear victor in sight.

and so, in the midst of that sleepless night, you lay adrift in a sea of shadows—grappling with the weight of your thoughts, yearning for a glimmer of hope. tomorrow held the promise of the harvest moon festival, a journey that would test your resilience. as you closed your eyes, a faint ember of hope flickered within—a whisper that whispered, "hold on. tomorrow is another day."

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐋𝐘𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ; striker x readerWhere stories live. Discover now