Please Don't Leave (Markiplier x Suicidal/Depressed Female Reader)

Day 13

I woke  up at Three PM after falling asleep in tears.

My nose is stuffy and shit, as expected, I move a bit and I look up at the dull ceiling. Just about two weeks ago I had nothing to live for, and nothing to fear, I was gonna end it all that day. I always remember that, But that didn't really change anything. Just how much longer I'm gonna wait? I sit up out of bed after close to an hour of not even trying to get myself out of bed, the only thing that pulled me out is some how my phone being all the way on the other side of the room, and it buzzing.

I walk over, and I take it, opening the messages. Another photo from Chris.I open it.

I close the dick pic.

I open me and Mark's conversation. After I said hello to him he's replied at eight in the morning with "I'm sorry I was asleep. Are you okay?" He's been too worried. I'm starting to wonder if He knows what I do in my free time...

Free time. 

I go to the bathroom to play with my sharp edged friends, bringing my phone with me, as I reply "I'm okay. I just fell asleep". I sit down on the edge of the bathtub, the toilet just has a terrible lid in general so I don't sit on that. I open my bag, and pull out on of my sharpest, and pull up my sleeve.

So many unhealthy scars. I know cutting is never really a good answer and doesn't really do anything for you, AT ALL, I mean all it does is add more insecurities, but ever since I was convinced to start, I just can't help it. It's addictive, like a cigarette. Pain, Is addictive. I place the cold blade against my arm, and I-

I jump as the blade leaves my skin, hardly marking it as my phone starts to ring. I drop the sharp edge in the bag as I pull down my sleeve, looking down at the phone to see Mark was calling. I answer, and It's on a video call.

"Hey (Y/N)." He says, he has it in that angle like he's doing a van vlog.

"H-Hey." I say, shuffling the bag back behind the toilet, Leaving it there just in case of guests is usually the reason, But I never expect those.

"Do you mind if me and my friend come over to your place?"

"...Why?" I ask, looking at the screen. 

He shows me that white board he has, and it has something stupid on it, as the usual, but it's talking about trying to get every gender to buy their- suddenly now he's selling Artsy shit.

"I need help on knowing what female standards are for artistic style."

"I dunno Mark shouldn't you be more worried about other things instead of gender, such as, personality and choice difference?" I say, him then pausing for a moment. 

"...I didn't think of it that way." Mark says, on purpose making himself look like an asshole on camera, so  laugh.

"Yeah with the mind of yours I wouldn't think  you'd think that much."

"Hey!" Mark yelps, clearly insulted, But knows I mean well. I mean, hopefully he does.

What if he hates me now? It'd probably be for the best.

I laugh a little nervously, trying to make it believable. "Sorry."

He laughs in return. "It's Okay. Are you busy?"

I stare at the bag for a moment. "...Yeah... I was just about to do something actually."

"Oh, Sorry If I bothered you hun."

I pause for a moment. "...Hun?" I ask, looking at the camera.

"I dunno why I said that I just feel sassy today."

"Wilford Warfstache."

"Yes." Mark chuckles. "I'll see you around."

"You too, HUN." I mock, as he chuckles, then exiting the call, my fake smile, attitude, laughter, all collapsing as soon as he leaves.

I know he cares, and he shouldn't. But since it's Mark, and I can't change that, I just have to make sure he'll forget about me. Somehow. I reach back over for the bag, and I take out the blade.

(TemSkep about like five to seven hours idfk)

I walk outside, walking around like usual, but this time heading to the store. As of late Mark's always been busy with work, So it's not like I could talk to him to help myself out of this. I stuff my hands into my pockets, suddenly everything's feeling empty, just me in general, I feel empty. Like a pumpkin that's being scooped out. Which is gross.

'Cause that stuff is gross.

I end up at the store I wanted to be in, and I walk over to exactly What I want. I know where it is close to immediately. 

I set the rope on the counter and I buy it, the cashier confused.

"Why are you only buying rope, Ma'am?"

"Since when were you supposed to ask me questions?"

The Cashier frowns as they take my money, and I walk out with this so called rope. I check my phone for a second, as I head home, pausing a few times so I don't run into anyone again, and destroy their lives technically, but then I stop once Chris sends me a picture. I decide not to open it until I'm home, and I put my phone back into my pocket, heading back home.

(Anotha one)

I step out of my closet after getting the rope to the ceiling, prepared and everything until I open my phone. I check the  picture out. At first I expected a Dick pic, but really it was just a picture of me from across the street from the hardware store.

NO BIGGy.

I pause for a moment as I stare, tempted to ask what he wants from me and show Mark, but I don't want Mark in my drama. I go into me and Mark's conversation instead, and my mind starts to race a bit with questions on everything. Nothing has been sent, so I just get off of that conversation, and walk to the desk in my bedroom, and grab another piece of paper, writing the same note over and over again, just now improving it with more apologies cause now people care. Of course a lot of the time I just write the note, and end up not doing it, which I'm probably gonna do right now.

But hey, I'll do it eventually.