MCSM Oneshots (LGBTQ+ Ships)

Close to Death

What was he angry at?
What was he angry with?

"Fake. You've got nothing to be angry about." the voice told Jesse, who was hiding out as per usual in the bathroom. Why was it always the bathroom?

"I do have something to be angry about.." Jesse whispered under his breath, getting frustrated. Then feeling foolish for talking to that voice in his head. But there was nothing wrong with him was there?

"Oh yeah?" the voice whispered back, "What are you angry with?"

Jesse wrapped his arms around his knees, resting his head between them, "Everything."

"That's what you always say, Jesse," the voice replied, "But isn't that just pity? You're pitying yourself again. Stop faking it. There's people who more problems than you."

Jesse looked up, at the glass and at his reflection. "I can't.. explain what I'm feeling. I'm just angry. At something. Something I just.. can't name." his voice grew weaker as he tried to finish his sentence.

"I cant speak. I cant remember anything anymore. All I can remember are the bad memories." he held his head, feeling his vision blurring a little.

"You're pretending again."

"There's nothing wrong with you. You just want to act insane because you want to fit in. To be pitied."

Jesse felt his head start to hurt again, this time getting worse as he curled up in the corner. "It's just getting worse." he whispered to the voice.

"Of course it's getting worse. The more you pity yourself, the more you'll feel pain. Why, I live in your head Jesse. I'm a figment of your imagination."

Jesse looked at his phone, turning it on to see very little messages.

"They're sick and tired of you disappearing Jesse," the voice continued, "You keep doing this, not replying to their messages. Just because you want to pity yourself."

"Even if I talk to them, what do I say? I'm angry at..?" Jesse trailed off. "What am I angry with?"

He clutched the penknife in his hands, "I just want to stab myself." he admitted, "I'm jealous. And tired. And- and I cant stop thinking about everything I've done. I've ignored the messages. Ignored my friends, tell me what to do." he whispered.

But the voice didn't reply. Leaving Jesse breathless and with unshed tears brimming in his eyes.

One guilt stabbed him in the heart though.

Jesse looked at his phone, turning it on to see a message from his boyfriend, Aiden.

He must.. be pretty sick and tired of Jesse disappearing all the time, huh. "I'm sorry," Jesse whispered, feeling his heart ache. "You probably.. don't.. love me anymore."

"He doesn't love you anymore."

Jesse froze when he heard the voice repeat that same sentence from a month ago.

"What?" he asked it, still leaning against the wall with his head buried. "He's sick and tired of you leaving him alone all the time you fool."

"You're always like this," the voice snapped, "Pitying yourself, beating yourself up. Wallowing in self pity while you clearly know that your friends are worried. Selfish of you. I wouldn't want to be-."

Jesse felt the pain snap him out of his thoughts, looking down at his arm. He dropped the knife, clutching the wound he had made on his skin. Blood started to pour from his arm, bleeding profusely as the pain slowly ebbed away, replaced by panic.

Jesse never cut this deep before-

He grabbed the edge of the sink, pulling himself up and letting the crimson blood drip into the basin. Shit shit shit- this was too much blood. He felt his knees shake as the wound continued to bleed.

He grabbed some toilet paper and pressed it against the cut, soaking the whole tissue easily. No no no no. He held his arm under the running water, clenching his fists as the pain flared up again.

Wait.

He stared at the water, which was bloody red at this point. Wasn't this what he wanted? Why was he fighting to stay alive?

What did he want?
Why was he fighting?

A sudden coldness made Jesse stop. Hitting the faucet to shut off the water.

...

He leaned against the wall, resting his head against the cool surface as blood continued to drip, hitting the marble floor.

He didn't know how long he stayed in the bathroom, but he knew it must've been a long time..

Without warning, he made a fist and slammed it against the wall, gritting his teeth as angry tears streamed down his face, "I love you." he whispered.

"But you cant.. hear me."

He finally admitted what he's been worrying about.

He was scared.

Scared to lose the one person he loved the most.

"Come to your senses haven't you?"

Jesse shook his head.

"But.." he opened his eyes, to see a small puddle of blood on the floor, which came from the cut on his arm.

"Why.. why do I feel like I don't love him anymore? Why do I keep.. doubting myself?"

"..."

"Answer that yourself Jesse. But until then. We'll meet again soon."

-End