Mountain Dew Red // Be More Chill + Dear Evan Hansen

🎮Dont Leave Me🎮

Hey....

This whole chapter is kind of a giant trigger for self harm and panic attacks.

•-•~•-•~•-•

He's going to leave me.
He's going to leave me.
He's going to leave me!
He's doing to leave me!
HE'S GOING TO LEAVE ME!

This was the only thought Michael had going through his head, the the only thing he could think of.

Is Jeremy going to leave me?! Oh god he's going to leave me! I'm going to be all alone!

Michael couldn't stop his thoughts. He was sitting in the corner of his bed, knees to his chest, and crying. His chest felt like someone had taken a lit match and set his lungs on fire. It felt like there were walls closing in on him, on his lungs, on his chest. He couldn't breathe. He just wanted it all to stop.

All the shouting in his head, he nonstop voices telling him how worthless he was, his own mind telling him how useless he was to everyone.

He wanted it to stop.

All the tears cascading down his cheeks, the feeling of acid against his skin. All the sobs racking through his body, causing ugly noises to escape from his lips.

He needed it to stop.

The fire burning in his chest. The walls pressing against his lungs. The salty substance entering his mouth. The snot coming out of his nose.

Everything needed to stop.

He hates you.
He doesn't need you.
He doesn't even want you.
Your worthless.
Useless.
A loser.

"Nononono! Stop! STOP! STOP! STOP!" Michael was yelling at the top of his lungs. Everything hurt.

He was shaking and his head was spinning. He started scratching at his arms, clawing at himself. It wouldn't stop. He felt a a sting as a heavy substance slowly dripped down the tan skin of his arms. It almost smelt metallic.

Looking down, Michael saw the many scars that ran up and down his skin, old and new scars. Some were closed while others were open, wether it be from him subconsciously clawing his arms or from the blade that sat next to him.

He felt light headed.

Was he losing to much blood? Or oxygen? Was the world crashing down on him? Michael didn't know.

All Michael knew was that he couldn't breathe. He was going to pass out.

Jeremy doesn't need you.
Jeremy doesn't want you.
Jeremy will never love you.
Jeremy will leave you.

"I SAID STOP!" Michael didn't feel his mouth moving, yet he knew he was saying something. "FUCKING STOP!"

You're going to die alone, right here and right now.

Michael didn't know when, but at some point he started clawing at his neck, trying to get to his throat. He need to let air in.

If you don't pass out soon then you'll be found dead of blood loss.

His nails pierced his skin. Blood was not only running down his arms, but also down his neck and chest.

Come on, just give up already. Nobody will ever love you, anyway. No one will care.

The voices in Michaels head got deeper and more sinister.

LOSER.

With one final breath, Michael whispered his last words to the world.

"I love you, Jeremy Heere..."