Harmful Love (A Michael Clifford Fanfic)

Chapter 24

*Daniellas POV

I wake up feeling dizzy, and drowsy. Last night was just a complete blur, I didn't control that. I was just upset. I didn't think he'd come back but thank god he did. I honestly don't even want to talk about what happened with the girl and him, I just don't have the energy to.

I step in the shower and take a brief shower. I hear Michael in the kitchen so I change quick to see him.

I sit on the chair at the table as he hands me a bagel.

"Good morning, did you sleep well?" Honestly, it was the best sleep I've had in days, besides the waking up part

"Yes, I did." He smiles and I smile back. I didn't really feel comfortable but I enjoyed talking to him.

I got my bag and headed out without waiting for him, I just didn't want to bring it up.

He follows me and we both get in the car.

The ride was completely silent, no music, no talking. I was glad that we weren't going to discuss it. I didn't even want to think about it. It's hard to look at my wrist, all the damage. Now for the next 2 weeks I'd have to wear long sleeves. At least it's not summer.

When we got out of the car he stopped me and kissed my forehead. "Please meet me here for lunch, I want to talk to you." I nod and he says he loves me then leaves, I sigh. I slowly walk to my English class, I didn't even want to learn anything today.

I walk in and start my lesson, the professor gives the class a pop quiz and it was probably the easiest quiz I've ever taken.

I leave class early and sit in the courtyard outside. I have nothing better to do anyways.

People think depression is a phase, they think it's just a smart word for being sad. But it's not. Depression can become dangerous, and worse. Self-harm isn't a joke. It's not something that can be cured in one week. It takes professional help, but Michael doesn't think that. He thinks he can help me but he can't. I've tried to talk to him about serious therapy but he doesn't listen. Not because he doesn't care, because he believes if he puts all his effort into me that it'll cure me. But it won't. One day, I might die. Nobody believes how my happy face is just a mask for how god damn sad I am. I'm always sad, constantly. I'm always thinking about suicide, cutting, being happy dead. Nobody understands but our minds. It's gotten to the point where even when I'm happy I'm still sad. I don't know what makes me happy anymore, it's hard for me to focus, and it's hard for me to make simple decisions. It's really fucking hard. I just want to numb the pain forever. But I don't want to hurt the ones I love. It's hard, it's just all too hard.

One day I'll end the pain.

I get up and walk to my next class, math. I'm invisible to the world. Nobody notices me.

I act quiet as possible and do my work, it's hard to concentrate but I make it possible.

I finally finish my work and leave the class, I go to sit where I meet Michael and wait.

20 minutes later I see Michael walk towards me. He gives me a tight hug and kisses me.

We walk to the car and he drives to Cook Out, he orders the food and we sit in a vacant parking lot and eat.

"Daniella." I look up and I take a sip of my drink.

"I'll do the therapy. I know it's been hard for you and I can't help you. I'm not superman, I can't save you. You need real help, I've set an appointment for you Saturday, which is tomorrow. I'm gonna get you what you deserve. I don't want to see you like this. You don't need this. Cutting isn't what you should be doing. I'm sorry I haven't done this sooner, I thought I could be your cure..."

He looks at me and I smile, I don't want to thank him because that wouldn't be enough. I kiss him and give him a giant hug.

"We're gonna take this step by step, first thing we do when we get home is throw every blade and scissors away. The only razor we will have is for shaving. I'm gonna hide everything else."

I nod and we continue to eat. We have a normal conversation and drive back home.

When we walk in he grabs every sharp thing I've used for cutting and throws it out. He grabs lighters too. Just incase I try anything besides cutting. He hides razors and leaves one for us to shave with. It'll take me awhile to adjust this, but I'm not giving up this time.

When he finishes he walks towards me and kisses me.

*Hey guys, I just wanted to let you all know, if you or anyone you know is suffering from depression, or anxiety or anything else, please get help immediately. Cutting isn't the answer. Suicide is not the answer. Please don't give up. TELL SOMEONE. You can get better!! I love you all so much. Please know that people do care. Put the blade down. Put the lighter down. Please.*

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