⚠️THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS POSSIBLE TRIGGERS AND IS ALL AROUND JUST VERY HEAVY, SO PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION⚠️
"This is Sophia. Leave a message afte-"
You interrupted the answering machine with a quick jab of your finger and carelessly tossed your phone onto the living room couch.
You just wanted to talk to her. You needed to talk to her.
She hadn't picked up all day and you had considered going over to her house, but you had no idea how she would react. Chances were, she'd just slam the door in your face and tell you to leave her alone. That was just how she was nowadays.
With an exasperated sigh, you snatched your phone back up and grabbed your car keys. You figured getting a door slammed into your face would be better than any of your other options at this point.
On the way over, you kept calling anyways.
You finally pulled up to her house, cutting the engine and getting out of your car. Blowing out a shaky sigh, you walked up the pathway and knocked against the wooden door.
C'mon. Please... just answer, Soph.
When you had pounded your fist into the door for what felt like the fiftieth time, you finally turned and began to make the walk back to the car.
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She watched her phone pile up with unanswered phone calls and text messages from {her/him} through tear stained eyes. A couple times she had actually reached to answer, but had instinctively yanked her hand back.
Standing on trembling legs, she slowly got up and made her way to the bathroom.
It was time.
Her hands clutched onto the thin material of her backpack as she searched through it, sighing in relief when her fingers wrapped around the cool outer shell of the box. She pulled it out and opened the top, revealing two razor blades.
One for each arm.
All she needed.
She twisted the faucet of the bathtub on and made her way to the sink. She could hear the sound of her heartbeat thudding in her ears as she carefully took out the razors. Her eyes caught in the mirror and she glanced up, noticing how bad she really looked; her eyes held no emotion and were bloodshot from crying, her cheeks and nose were blotchy from all the wiping away of tears... she was broken.
WELL.... I MIGHT AS WELL HAVE CHUCKED MY BODY DOWN A FLIGHT OF STAIRS WHILE WRITING THIS. HOW THE HECK AM I GONNA GET THROUGH TO WRITING PART FOUR IF THIS IS HURTING ME SO BADHKWKRGHKF
ALSO, A LOT OF YOU PROBABLY SEE WHERE THIS IS GOING AND I JUST WANTED TO ASK YOU TO PLEASE HAVE MERCY.
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THANK YOU IN ADVANCE. I LOVE YOU, MY FORGIVING READER.
