One would think that being the daughter of a Formula 1 World Champion would be a dream, but Y/N could assure you that it was not. There was constant ridicule; from the moment she started school all those years ago to the moment she finished and ever now at the bright age of 23, people still took every chance they could to tear her down. It seemed that regardless of what she did, people always found something at fault. The past few months had been the worst it'd ever been, and Y/N had put that down to the fact that her and Pierre had came out to the public about their relationship. It was in these moments that Y/N couldn't cope and just wanted it all to end.
It was the first day of free practices at the Monacan Grand Prix and Y/N had taken advantage of the fact that she had the apartment to herself while Pierre was down at the track. She knew she'd have plenty of time to get what she needed to do done. As she sat at the kitchen table, she took out a pen and a piece of paper and began to write;
'I can't take it anymore, sometimes I wish I could go back to the girl I use to be – when I didn't give a care in the world. But now my mind is too far gone, too messed up. There's so much pressure and noise and I just want it to be quiet. Sometimes there are times when I wish I'd let you help me sooner but now I'm trapped. There's no going back. Everyone judges me and they're right to do so. I'm wandering through the darkest pits of my mine alone and nobody seems to care'
Y/N took a breath as she penned her goodbyes on the paper in front of her.
'To Pierre, please don't grieve over me. I'm not worth it. You deserve to live a wonderful life and I'm just going to hold you back. You don't need the weight of me on your shoulders. I don't deserve your love. Continue to live. Continue to drive. Don't let me hold you back because I'm not. You're one of the best things in my life and I wish I didn't let you get so attached because I knew it'd come to this.'
Drops of tears began to appear on the sheet of paper and Y/N frantically began to wipe under her eyes. Her pen clattered onto the table and she sat with her head in her hands. She knew it'd be hard but her mind was settled on it and writing this letter brought forth all these ugly, negative thoughts and emotions that she had cast to the back of her mind.
'Dad, there was so much pressure to being your daughter. I never told you because I feared your reaction. There are times I regret you being a racing driver but then I scold myself for thinking that ... for thinking that I could wish that someone wouldn't be able to fulfil their dream. I'm an awful human being and it's not as if anyone will miss me, I've been destroying myself for years in preparation for the finale. Because what is the point in living anymore? I'm carrying a dead weight. There are times I wish I could go back and change everything – like my life was written in pencil so I could erase all the ugly parts. But what is the point? I should stop, I'm wasting ink and your time. I'm so selfish. I love you but I'm not fit to cope with the people on the outside looking in. I can't live with myself anymore. I'm not worth it. Everything will be better without me. I hate myself. I miss the old me. The old me before my mine with clogged with everything.
Y/N often wondered what dying would feel like. Would it give her a whole new world where she could finally be happy and free? After casting out all her thoughts onto paper, it seemed easier now. Perhaps if Y/N knew the relief she'd feel she may have done it years ago.
Y/N shook as she stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom. It was risky. It had to be done quickly. She knew Pierre could come home at any moment. By this time, she was sure FP1 was over and she wasn't sure if he'd drop by the apartment to see if she wanted to come to FP2. As she grabbed a razor blade that she'd broken from her own razor, her hand shook as she held it against her opposite wrist. She began to drag it up towards her elbow, wincing as it pierced the skin and blood began to flow outwards from the wound. It covered my arm, my hands, dripping onto the floor I finally began to feel lightheaded. This is it.
Everything turned black.
But then it wasn't.
Y/N eyes opened with a start. Her left arm was bandaged and sitting on either side of her was her dad and Pierre, sleeping. It was dark outside. As she made eye contact with a nurse who seemed to be stationed at the nurses' desk outside, the nurse jumped to her feet and stepped into the room. At the sound of the door closing, the men either side of her awoke with a start and stared at Y/N while the nurse stood quietly in the background; allowing them to have a brief reunion.
"Y/N!" her father said. The Alfa Romeo driver gathered her into a hug, kissing her forehead and squeezing her tightly while Pierre looked on. "Never do that to me again! Please." He pleaded. With a hesitant smile, Y/N gave a small nod. "Let me talk to you outside, Mr Raikkonen." Her father followed the nurse outside, and Pierre took this as his opportunity to stare at Y/N.
"What?" She asked as he continued to stare at her. "Why?" He asked as his eyes began to blur, "You never told me anything of the sort." Y/N looked at him before closing her eyes and letting out a sigh, "I didn't want to involve you. This is my own battle and I need to beat it."
Pierre stood up and motioned for her to shuffle over. He lay down beside her and she moved to lay her head on his chest, cuddled into her chest. He pressed a kiss to her forehead while trailing his fingers up and down her arm. "We can get through it together. Never doubt that I'll always be here for you."
________
I am fortunate enough that I, nor anyone in family, have been affected by depression and therefore I am not an expert on the disease so if what I have written is incorrect please feel free to message me. And if you ever feel the need to chat to someone, please know that you can always message me.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
