"I'll always be here for you~"

16

I sat in the bathroom stall, trembling. I had my head in my hands while I stared at my feet, emotionless.

They're right.

You're a bitch.

You're ugly.

No one could ever love you. One day Sean will realize the mistake he's made, and leave you forever.

Tears stung at my eyes. Some escaped, others landing on the floor forming a tiny puddle on the disgusting tile floor.

What is wrong with me?

Why was I born this way?

I sat there and let the toxic thoughts poison my brain. Washing away all the mental healing I went through the past weeks.

Then I heard it.

Footsteps coming into the bathroom.

I froze, mortified.

Did they hear me?

Did they hear me crying like a little bitch?

I'm a fucking baby.

The footsteps continued walking up the stalls until they stopped in front of my stall.

Under the door were a pair of vans, making me stop breathing for a second at the realization.

Erin wears vans.

Erin knocked on the door.

"I know you're in there Y/n. I just want to talk."  She said in her bitchy voice.

"Go the fuck away." I hissed.

"Open this door right now or I swear to god I'll make you wish you were never born." She snarled.

"Bold of you to assume I don't already wish that." I remarked.

"Open. The. Fucking. Door."

"No."

I could tell she was frustrated, but she didn't stop.

"You know what you little bitch?" She hissed, "No one loves you, so there is no point in hiding in here waiting for your Prince Charming sEaN."

"Thats n-not true..." I said, doubtful in my own words.

"He DOESN'T love you."

Every word she says cuts me like a machete.

While I just sit there, soaking up the words like a sponge, believing everything single word.

"To be honest, he probably be the same as Chris." She remarks, probably checking her nails or some bullshit.

"He will beat you." Crack.

"Ridicule you." Crack.

"He will be no different." Crack.

"Because you don't deserve love." Crack.

"He's just playing with you." Crack.

"So if I were you....

I'd go and jump off a cliff." Shatter.

My will to live escaped my body.

Her statements were a bat, beating the small glass box that contained my will to live.

I stood up.

Unlocked the stall door, and stared at her.

Her foundation was caked on. Blush to dark, eyeshadow to flashy, and her mascara and fake eyelashes you could see from a mile away. Her lipstick brighter than my spirit.

She looked at me, and batted her fake eyelashes, "Got it sweetheart?"

I just stared, then emotionless lay walked past her.

"That's what I thought." She snickered.

After I left the bathroom. I staggered out of the school and into the parking lot.

Not even bothering to get the car.

I wandered the streets, my mind racing.

Do it.

No one will care.

You can end it.

End the fight.

And be free.