ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ//ꜱᴇʙᴀꜱᴛɪᴀɴ ᴍɪᴄʜᴇᴀʟɪꜱ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

mind too loud

tick....tok....tick....tok

the unstreadiness never left. it always existed, nothing ever stayed stable. every decision y/n made was always left y/n unsteady. she was always at risk at falling but before there would be hands to catch her. most of y/n's decisions was because she lacked that independent characteristic.

her father would catch her and placed her back on her feet, always assistancing her, sharing the same burdens. he was more experience and was more then willing to help.

jack would catch her, but he would fall and get back up with y/n, at her side. because he also was like y/n, they both had no idea what they were doing. undertaker always caught her but not similar to how her father did. if y/n fell, undertaker would pick her up and carry her until y/n fought her way out of his arms. he babied her, y/n refused to be seem as kid because of her ego.

unconsciously she tried to find someone who would pick her up like her father did. you see, y/n grew too fast. childhood is where children learn slowly to being an adult, where y/n was shoved into adulthood when her father passed. she became strong but she didn't want that, she just wants to feel safe and happy. but ever since she's been trying to find someone who'll catch her. but-

tik...tok...tik...tok..tik

she hasn't found anyone. she knows people, she's surrounded by people. but she feels so lonely and feels like a outcast-

she knew she could never be dependent, she had to have someone who'll support and help her.but then yet again, she unsteady. shaking, unbalanced, insecure-

she tipping on the edge, even with two feet her body is unsteady. she's swaying back and forth on the edge, but it's not her doing.

the winds just seems so strong. it blows but unlike the other strong and colorful flowers, the only flower that sways with the wind is already wilting is lost color-

the lungs she has been given is full of air that won't release. the weightless air weighted a ton in her lungs.

her eyes unfocused, she cannot see herself anymore-

the face she has is no longer recognizable in the mirror-

"is that me?"

her bright eyes now tired and red, they no longer see the truth and lies-

she felt paranoid, her wide eyes darting around

is that the same face she was born with? is that the face she used to walk around?

tik..tok..tik..tok..tik

is it her, or is time speeding up-

her fingers painted in blood, her rub her head tangling themselves in her hair. she itches all over-

this isn't her

this isn't her body nor mind-

the wind now feels like punches, it's leaving pained spots on her body.

one by one the wilted petals are floating along with the wind, but her body refused to let go-

something is very very wrong--everything is wrong-

her eyes searches for her, but only finds a person staring back, is this really her?

her puffy eyes want to look away but they refuse to move. she can't cry out for help when its happening in her head-

she can feel herself slowly rocking more towards the edge. the closer the mirror is, the pressure increases in her ears-

it's so loud, it squishing her head, it hurts-