the outsiders | imagines and preferences

💕Depression Reaction- Soda💕

A/N- TRIGGER WARNING! By writing this, I don't support self-harm in anyway. If you ever need someone to talk to please know I am here for you. Stay alive|-/
I'm sorry if I get any facts about depression wrong, but do keep in mind, that everyone goes though depression differently.

Diana's POV~

I absolutely hated that I was like this. Why me? I look in the mirror to see a giant waste of space. Tears streamed down the piece of garbage I call my face.

Maybe my parents were right, maybe everyone would be happier if I just died. Maybe I should listen to all those bullies I tried to block out. After a while, getting slammed against the lockers and receiving numerous blows to my body, gets, well, extremely painful. All these thoughts swarmed throughout my head as I held the knife in my hand.

I don't deserve Sodapop with his princely traits and movie star looks. To him, I am just a burden. Nothing more. The voices were right about him dating me out of pity. Who was I to think I was actually worth something? With my "sudden" episodes of sadness, I just sucked all the fun out of things.

I didn't even bother writing a note. No one would care if I did. Just wasting a tree to write a note that no one would ever read.

The rust had made it's way on the handle. I hold it up to the fading sunlight and examine it. I turn the knife over in my hands, feeling the weight of it. The emotional weight was far less than the weight of the knife. In fact, there was hardly any emotional weight.

*(A/N descriptive cutting scene)
I gently place the sharp knife down on the soft region of my skin. Just enough pressure to allow some blood to flow down my wrist. The coldness from the knife felt good. The bit of blood left on the knife slightly glimmered in the sunlight. Guess I better hurry up the job...
(A/N begin reading here)
As I begin to slide the steel object against my skin again, I feel a pair of warm arms wrap around me. In a hastily manner, I drop the knife. I immediately recognized the sweet scent of chocolate cake and oil, Sodapop.

3rd person~
Soda squeezes the fragile girl in his arms; mad at himself for not noticing her subtle warnings. He gently strokes her hair, whispering comforting things into her ear. Diana cries silently onto him. The voices telling her she's such a crybaby. She yells at them to stop it.

Soda ignores her yelling, "Babygirl, princess, what are doing?" He places sweet kisses on her arms. Diana, at the moment, was too lost in thought to answer him. "Please, please, never do this again," he said barely above a whisper. "I don't know what I'd do without you. I love you so, so much. Don't you ever try to leave or harm your beautiful body, okay?" Tears began to also drip off Soda's chin.

"If only it was that easy," Diana thought to herself silently...