-This is a new one because I deleted the last 009-

@worthless: 

a cut here 

a cut there

no one will notice

no one will care

@anonymous: " don't you worry cause everything's gonna be alright."

Y  O U

 @him: please tell me you're okay

@him: i couldn't sleep at all last night

@him: I couldn't stop thinking of you

@him: please tell me you're okay

@him: please tell me you're alive.

@me: being alive and okay are different, I.

@him: thank ing god

@him: you're alive

@him: you ing scared me

@me: I'm sorry

@him: you alright now?

@me: i took my antidepressant, if that's what you mean

@him: don't scare me like that again

@me: sorry

@him:I had ing fits last night

@me: sorry

@him: you say sorry too much

@me: . . .  sorry

--

 Being in hospital isn't fun, but I suppose it's better than school.

The loud beeping is obnoxious and there's the occasional scream or loud sobbing that echoes through the hallways making me shudders every time. The smell of hospital made me lightheaded. 

I hate it here. I also hate it at school. And, I hate it at home too. I mean, I'm always alone, why should I like that place?

I hate it everywhere.

"Ms. You," A middle aged man called by the door, a shiny stethoscope around his neckand a clipboard on his hand.He smiles at me from the doorway before pushing his thick rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose. He strolls inside to stand beside my bed. 

"How are you feeling?"

"You mean, how am I feeling despite being depressed and cuts all up my arms? Okay, I'm okay." I said, biting the bottom of my lips in annoyance. 

The man shifted in his stance uncomfortable and clears his throat," Well, now that you're all stitched up, we should have a chat, yes?"

Why ask the question, when you're gonna talk anyway.

"Look, doc, you've been a great doc ever since i'm here but let's just face this aight. Yes, I'm depressed and I know this isn't normal but I don't care." I say, staring at the old man. 

He takes a seat on the end of the bed beside my feet so I pulled them closer to my chest. 

"Why do you say that?" He asks. "Why don't you care?"

I huff. "Because" I say casually,"We are all going to die, and I just want to quicken the process"

"You do know that isn't healthy?" He says while jotting down some notes on the clipboard. "Most people want to prolong their life as long as possible."

"I understand that." I mumble gloomily.

"So, you agree you shouldn't be thinking this way?"

"Yes."

"Why do you think like this?" He asks, looking at me, worried, sympathy in his eyes.

"I'm depressed, hence why I'm on antidepressant." I state.

"You are depressed." he repeats. 

"Aren't you a  doctor, are we done stating the obvious now?"

Does he think being depression is like 'omg I'm depressed, I should stop now and be happy ride a unicorn and .'. That's not how it works. Depression is like a war. You either win or die trying. 

"Okay, we're done. I'm going to talk to your parents about this and I will send your brother in. He want's to talk to you."

Words can’t describe how a great person I is.  He would be disappointed in me if he knew I did this. That’s why, he should never know.

I just couldn’t handle it anymore, the comments, the bullying. It was just too much.

I wanted it to end. So, I took an action. Twenty deep cuts on each arms. It hurts, but living. . .

Hurts even more.

The blood trailed down my arms, I was light-headed, and my knees buckled. Before I knew it, I out. I hoped it would be the end.

I didn’t know how long it was until my older brother, Sehun who rarely came hone found me but I did loose a lot of blood. They said I was close to dying. So, so close too dying but I didn’t make it to the end. The blissful and peaceful end.

Sometimes, I would dream of dying, how it would feel. Would I be forgiven of my sins? I hope so. I have to be. I mean, I’ve had enough torture on this planet, why should I be punished for all my sins in the afterlife?

If death isn’t peaceful, then what is? I must belong somewhere, someway, somehow whether it’s life or death.

Most days I believe I belong six-feet under in a coffin. With no pulse.

“J,” the bed dipsbeside me as my brother sits down next to my hips. I didn’t even notice he walked in, I was too aborbed in my thoughts. That tends to happen alot and that is not a good thing. “What are you doing?”

Sehun’s voice was soft, almost like a whisper. It’s comforting.

“What do you mean?” I ask, sitting up, leaning against his warm figure.

I’ve missed him so much, it’s not the same without him. He left last year, that’s around the time I got worse. It’s not his fault or anything but it would’ve helped me if he stayed. Especially since my parents are never home.

“What are you doing to yourself?” he wrapped his arms around my shoulder, pressing his lips on my temple.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” he rheotically asks. “This isn’t nothing Jess. You’re in a hospital for Christ’s sake.”

“I know.”

We sit in silence for a minute or two. My mind constantly drifting back to I on twitter.

Was he really worried about me? Why?

I talked to him only moments before the doctor walked in, he seemed relieved that I was fine. I’m not sure I’m okay, but I am alive.

“We’ll find a way to fix you Jess.” My brother said, snapping me out of my trance.

What’s the point? I’m unfixable. 

{ a/n: author has nothing to say at the moment. }