*Mainly* Joshler one shots

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Warning: Heavy Topics about depression and suicide attempts

I feel nothing, even all the things people keep telling me, I don't feel anything when they talk to me and tell me to be happy. It's not that simple. Why don't they understand? I feel nothing. I'm just an empty void. I can't feel my heartbeat. I've tried.

I've tried

Nothing worked.

I've tried pills, I've tried drowning...

Nothing works, I keep living.

Why don't they get it? I hate this place.

I want to leave.

I don't want to be here anymore.

Everything the doctors have told me like, "Look on the bright side of things." It's hard, that 'bright side' is non-existent. That light that once was there is now gone. 

WHY DON'T THEY UNDERSTAND?! THEY KNOW ME BY NAME WHEN THEY SEE ME! 

I don't want to be here anymore. I need to leave, I don't want to, I NEED to.

I stare at my arms, filled with cuts, I don't feel anything as I glade the blade over the scabs. I didn't even notice the tear that fell across my face till it hit my arm. I watched the blood mix with the salty tear. I watch them dance around in peace.

Peace.

That's what I need. I need to fall off the grid.

I need to be erased. It's not like anyone would care I'm gone.

I have no friends. My family hates me cause I'm to 'depressed'.

Why didn't they try to fix me? Fix, that's what I need. I need to be fixed so I can be normal and not be stared at when I go outside with scars covering my arms, bruises on my face and cuts on my face and collarbone. All from my 'boyfriend'.

All from Justin. "Tyler! You whore get down here!" He's back. I don't move. "You better not be a worthless piece of shit again, cutting yourself in the bathroom!" I hear him yell as he knocks on the bathroom door. He opens it and looks at me. "Come here slut," he calls me before yanking me up by my upper arm. He grabs onto my chin with his filthy hands, digging his thumb into my jaw. I don't care how their's even a slight bit of pain for once. "Clean your arms whore," He says while dragging me to the sink. 

His breath reeks of alcohol and cigarettes. He turns on the cold tap water before going back downstairs. I feel my legs shake in weakness. I force myself to stand as I clean off the blood. I walk downstairs and hear glass break and see shards at the bottom of the stairs. "Come here depressed shit." He says while making a motion with his finger telling me to come his way. I walk over on my weak legs. They nearly give up when I make it over to him. He slaps me in the face. "Really? You tried to die again? What the fuck is wrong with you? Fucking pussy." He grabs his cigarette pack and walks outside. "I'm going out. Don't you fucking think about leaving this house."

I nod as he leaves. I sit on the kitchen ground just staring at the cabinet in front of me. I didn't realize how long I've sat there till I look around seeing it's dark and the time on the oven says 11:46. I get up on my lanky legs and grab my sweatshirt from the couch. I put on my vans and walk out in the cool breeze. I see the bridge, slightly lit up by the street lights that barely cover the whole bridge. I lean against the rail for a bit. I sit on top of the railing letting my legs dangle over the big drop towards the dark mysterious water. I watch some of my tears fall into the water making a tiny splash.

It looks inviting. I want to jump.

Why not?

I stand on the very edge of the concrete. My toes peak over the edge of the cement. I stand up with my hands holding onto the red handrail.  As I slowly let my fingers lift off the handrail I feel arms wrap around my waist and pull me back onto the ground and sit my on the ground in their lap. "Let go of me!" I yell. They release their arms from around my waist. Tears fall down my face more. I go to jump off again but the same arms wrap around my waist. "Stop! Don't you get it?! I want to die," I say as I cry harder. My legs give up and I fall to the ground.