Mr. Spice & Everything Nice

Chapter One

chapter and trigger warnings: suicide idealisation, constant thought and temptation of dying, severe self-disdain, and mention of self-harm.

there is also unintentional misgendering in this chapter and a couple of the following. there's a lot i want to say about it so i will leave a couple of comments here if you'd like to know more about it ——>>

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please please please go into this book cautiously. read it at your own discretion. i cannot stress the warnings enough. there will be constant talk of depleting mental health and the long-term and immediate affects of it.

disclaimer: i am by no means a doctor or psychologist or any one who has done extensive research on mental health. i have a bachelors degree where i studied mental health a little bit, otherwise all information is personal research and personal experience. what works for these characters may not work for you, and may not be professionally recommended, so please do not use any of their methods as a guide and seek your own professional help if you're struggling.

most importantly: please, please, please know you're loved and brilliant and this world wouldn't be the same without you. my DMs are always open <3

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Suffering was a choice, right? That was what the kids at school used to say. That was what the neighbours used to whisper to each other, when they saw my uncle and I walking down the street.

They choose to suffer. They choose to linger on those painful memories. They choose pain over love because they love the lick of pain.

Granted, I couldn't refute the last one. While I didn't love the lick of pain, it was the only form of comfort I knew. That wasn't to say my uncle hadn't done his best to raise me; hadn't given me every piece of happiness he knew — even if his own sense of happiness was warped and twisted and wrong.

"Milton," my uncle's voice sounded through the quiet carriage, "I—"

"Don't." The word cracked out of me. I hadn't spoken aloud in days. Everything I wanted to say, I had already said.

I'd gone unheard.

Out the corner of my eye, I saw him press his lips together and brace. He was always bracing. Like I was unhinged and delusional, about to snap at any given moment, unprovoked.

"Mint," he tried, and the nickname cut through me. I clenched my jaw, drawing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms tight around them. "I need you to listen to me."

Suffering wasn't a choice. I would never willingly put myself in this position. If I had my way, my uncle and I would be living the rest of our lives in peace, content and happy and together. Maybe one day I would settle down with someone, a nice girl of sorts, but Uncle Felix would still be there.

"Please."

Now it felt as though that future wasn't even a possibility.

"I did listen to you," I whispered. All those meaningless words you filled my head with. All those lies you told me when you said it would get better. When? When do I finally wake up and feel okay?

The remnants of a sad smile touched the corners of my uncle's lips. I stared out the window as the scenery changed, not wanting to acknowledge his pain. What did he know of it?