The Scream Behind The Screen {Markiplier X Abused Reader} [First Draft]

My Shield

*Strong Topic At The Middle And End*

Addaline's POV

"Addaline," the woman behind the desk called out to me, continuing our conversation once I approached her work space. "You have someone who needs therapy, right? Miss..." She scanned the monitor and made a few clicks of the mouse, "(F/N) (M/N) (L/N), correct?"

"Yes, ma'am." My fingers tapped the desk.

"What is her therapy for?"

"Most likely trauma and abuse." 

To be honest, I wasn't really sure what treatment she needed... I haven't read through her journal. Lord knows I can't. I don't want to even entertain the idea of her getting hurt in any way. She hasn't done anything wrong to deserve it. Er- In my eyes, at least... I remember that day, though... Every possibility going through my mind is her getting hurt. Mark's brother tried to comfort me, knowing I am Christian, with the whole 'it's in God's plan' sch-peal. I know he wanted to help me... but I snapped back... telling him that misery never was God's plan. Not for us. I immediately apologized for reacting the way I did. He was gracious about it since I was in a bad state of mind. It's hard for them to help me heal up at that point because they didn't know how to or if there was any way to help. In my heart, I appreciate their efforts, though they lacked the knowledge of my belief. Which is okay to me. I still love them and they still love me. No matter how different we are, we accepted each other. That's what I love about them. They tolerate me enough to love me.

--

Y/N's POV

"Mark is supposed to be back soon, right?" I asked the leprechaun.

"Around tomorrow morning-ish." Jack is transfixed with whatever is on his phone. 

I didn't feel like having any human contact. It's random... I suddenly felt this wave of negativity wash over me and take out a lot of my energy. Without the Irish noticing, I went to my room. Mark's room, technically, but my room since he gave it up to me. So it's mine now. 

Mine. 

Either way, I closed the door behind me and locked it. The room was silent, yet loud at the same time. It's the sound of the room holding it's breath and watching me, waiting for me to do something. It's strange. Very, very strange. I want to pretend many strange things didn't happen. It's the atmosphere in this room gives off that gets me. Strange...

I flopped on Mark's bed. I mean my bed. It's my bed now.

The room is making me feel awkward. So awkward I want to leave. But I don't. Re-positioning myself so I can stare at the ceiling, my new cellphone went off. Listening to Mark's ringtone for a little bit before I accept the call, I answered.

"Hey." His voice sounded warm, giving me the soothing sensation of peace as he spoke. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

He hesitated for a split second. "I had a weird feeling."

"I'm fine. I promise."

His breath filled the silence instead of static. "I wonder sometimes... You did go through a lot. Can you blame me for worrying?"

Before I could respond with some sass, he quickly added in one more statement.

"Would you worry if it were Addaline or I that got hurt? That went missing for years and come back with unknown injuries to you? Would you worry your heart out for us?"