𝔾𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 ℍ𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 ; ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕖𝕪 ℚ𝕦𝕚𝕟𝕟

♦️ 11 ♦️

"Her."

Harley's POV:

"I'm free! Oh my god, y/n! We did- y/n?" I stopped dead in my tracks, looking around the vacant apartment we used to share. It was mine, the woman moving in with me not too long after we met. The wooden floors had a thin layer of dust coating it, along with all the other surfaces in the room.

I sneezed, the dust drying my nostrils while I walked further into the apartment.

"Y/n?" I called, hoping she would answer me. Or at least say something, "Y/n?"

"In here!" I heard her soft voice call. I smiled to myself, skipping towards the bedroom door. My hand touched the chipped door handle, the golden colored shine to it coming off.

Blood. There was so much blood it seeped into the creaky floorboards of my apartment, flowing out from under the door of the bedroom.

"Sugar?" I called shakily, pushing the door open as a chill went down my spine. The door slammed behind me and I jumped in my spot, exhaling a shaky breath. A musty smell wafted under my nose and I cringed, my legs wobbled under me as I let out a soul shaking cry.

"Y/n!!!" I screamed, my chest tightening together until I felt like I couldn't breath. My ears began ringing as I pulled her cold body into my lap, a small hole in the side of her head where her life flowed out of her.

"Please wake up!" I shook her body gently, pushing back some of her hair out of her eyes. My head fell to her chest as I cried out all I could, staining her clothes with my tears. Looking up, my gaze locked on the small pistol in her hand, soaked in her own blood.

"We can be together again, sugar." I sniffled, reaching for the small gun. The small piece was heavy in my hands as I brought it up to my temple, finger caressing the trigger like I was touching death itself.

My breath caught in my throat as the cold barrel of the gun kissed my temple, replaying a conversation I had a long time ago.

"I've been having a lot of nightmares lately." I mumbled softly, twirling my thumbs as I stared up at the ceiling.

"Have you been taking anything?" My therapist asked. I shook my head no with a hum.

"There's always so much blood in the nightmare. No matter what happens in my dream, I die. I'm happy and then the dream shifts instantly and I'm putting a bullet in my head."

"Do you want to kill yourself?" My therapist asked, her pen scribbling down on her small notepad in her lap.

I exhaled deeply, sitting up and pulling the decor pillow into my lap, "Do you think people feel suicidal?"

"How do you mean?" Her thick eyebrows furrowed down.

"I mean, is wanting to kill yourself a feeling, an urge you get deep down. Or, is it just the depression rotting away inside of you that makes you think you have to kill yourself to escape the pain." I explained, finally making eye contact with her emerald green eyes.

My therapist, Dr. Eden, a thick raven haired woman with the most gentle and striking green eyes I had ever seen. Her golden rimmed glasses adorned her face and contrasted beautifully with her eyes. Plump lips were stained in a nude lipstick, but still a dark enough shade to know she was wearing some, sighed heavily as I she poured us both a steaming cup of tea.

"I think people really only want to kill off the bad things inside of them." She spoke softly, handing me the cup of tea.

"And what if you were the problem?"

"Do you think you're the problem?"

I glanced down, a frown tugging on my lips, "I don't really know. How do you make a mental patient sane again?"

Dr. Eden leaned back a little on her chair, "You don't, really. There's nothing you can do to help them if they don't want you to help them."

"She has to want my help." I mumbled to myself, some realization dawning on me.

"If you want, I can write you a prescription to help you sleep better, and get you something for the depression." The raven haired woman offered.

Shaking my head with a weak smile I replied, "No, that's alright. I don't like taking medication because then it makes me feel like I'm sick and twisted."

"Okay." Dr. Eden nodded, a silence falling upon us as I took a slow gulp of my tea.

"Do you think death is peaceful?" I asked hoarsely, making eye contact with her, "Is there solace in sleeping forever?"

"I can't answer that."

I nodded slowly, zoning out on a certain spot on the wall behind her, "I wish you could. I wish we knew. Maybe more people wouldn't do it. I wouldn't want to go to sleep forever if my demons were going to taunt me."

"I'm afraid that's all the time we have for this session." The woman looked down at her watch when it started beeping, offering me an apologetic smile.

I sighed through my nose, putting the pillow back where it was before standing up, thanking her for the tea.

"Call me if things.. if you need to talk." Eden pulled me into a hug.

Awkwardly I hugged back, clearing my throat awkwardly before stepping back. I told her I would and left her office, making my way out of the building all together.

Then, I pulled the trigger.

There was peace in death, in sleeping forever. There was peace in having your mind shut down, to stop shouting and screaming all these vile words at you. Even the ones that whispered little threats in your ear were silenced by the bullet. Death was a new world, one much more peaceful.

There was inner peace in making it be quiet forever. I was free. And y/n was too.

Fin.

a/n: the first chapter of the prequel is now up!