Weightless

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Trigger Warning: heavy talk of eating disorders and self harm/suicide.
(also, this isn't to romanticize either of these things. Just writing from an experience I've had.)
---

You stand in front of the mirror, your tank top falling just above your underwear waistband. You gently ran your fingers over your thighs, the scarring scabs seeming to scream whenever you touched them. You roughly hit the back of your thighs, trying to see them jiggle. "One more day." you shrugged.

And by that, you meant another day without eating. It had been almost a week. 
You wished you weren't so numb to the feeling of being hungry... but there was no turning back now. 

You had been diagnosed with bulimia since you were a pre-teen, and it had never gotten this bad, but all that did was make you feel valid. 
The lengths you went to just to feel "dainty" and "small" was life-threatening, sickening. 

You look in the mirror again. Every time you didn't feel "pretty" or "skinny" enough, you punished yourself. Whether it be with cutting or starving, you always found a way. You just hoped that Corpse didn't find out. It would break him. 

"Disgusting." you mumble, taking a blade from your hidden stash. 
You didn't even hesitate, you started carving words into your thighs. "Fat" it read on one leg, and "ugly" on the other. You take a sip of your black coffee, before realizing... the bleeding wasn't slowing. 

"Fuck-" you sigh, grabbing toilet paper and adding pressure. That only seemed to make it worse. You were getting lightheaded and it was only continuing to worsen. 
You realized that this wasn't good... and you could see the outcome already. 
You grab your phone, not able to clearly see everything because everything was hazy. 

Baby, you know I love you?

You quickly typed and sent. 

*New Message from 'Lover boy <3'*

You didn't even have the strength to pick it up to answer. The bathroom floor was painted red at this point and it was too late. You closed your eyes, the world seeming so unbelievably quiet. 

*6:32 PM*
Yeah, I know baby. I love you too.
Hey, is everything alright?
*6:45 PM*
Y/N? Everything alright? 
You're scaring me...

---

Corpse's POV

I walk into the apartment quickly, letting the front door fall shut behind me as I looked for my girlfriend. She wasn't responding and I was getting worried. "Y/N? Baby... where are you?"
I look through the living room, dining room, bedroom, kitchen. Nothing. Bathroom?

Oh fuck. 
"Oh my God..."  I walk into the bathroom, blood sticking to my shoes. "Baby?! Y/N, wake up! You're okay, baby, wake up!" I scream, tears falling down my face. "Come on, it's gonna be okay." I say as I pick her up, her body seeming heavier for some reason. Dead weight. Fuck, I hope I'm not too late. I bring her into the hallway, away from all the blood as I just break down. "Please don't give up on me, please, please." I start to sob, pulling out my phone before hitting the emergency number. "Just hang on." 

The operator finally picked up. "Hi, my girlfriend cut herself and she's not conscious, I found her on the bathroom floor and she's not responsive." I quickly explain, before giving her the address. 
"Five minutes, doll, they'll be here soon." 

I couldn't help but notice how she looked so... pale. How she was cold to the touch and there was hardly any color in her cheeks. "God, what have you been doing?" I ask softly, seeing the carved words in her thighs, along with the other cuts. "You're too beautiful to deserve any of this." 

---

I sat beside her for hours. The continuous beeping of the heart monitor being white noise by now, and the cuts all stitched. "I love you." I whisper.
"You know... I knew you were the one from almost the beginning. All I've ever wanted was to protect you. To make sure you were treated like the only girl in the world and to see you happy." 

She had been fed by a feeding tube. Apparently she hadn't ate in nearly a week based off the tests they did. 

"I wish you could see how beautiful you are. I wish you could see the way your face lights up when a dog walks into the room, or the way you giggle at my stupid jokes. Just the little things... the things that make you so beautiful. Whatever it takes... I'm gonna try to show you just how gorgeous you are." 

I study her face, watching her eyes slowly open. 
"C-Corpse?" she whispered. 
"Hi, babygirl." I smile weakly, trying not to let too many emotions show. She would just feel awful. 
"What happened... actually don't answer that." she sighs. 

I frown, taking her hand in mine. "Are you in any pain?"
She kind of chuckles at that. "Lots. But it's alright." 
"They've got you on morphine. Do you want some more?"
"Just give it a few, C. I just woke up." she giggles. 

God, even in the worst situations her laughs can light up a room.

I nod, before deciding to get some answers. "So... why? Why did you try to kill yourself? Did I do something? Is it a family thing? I want you to talk to me." 
She purses her lips, thinking. 

"I didn't try to kill myself, actually. I just... fucked up. Cut too deep and hit an artery." 
"You scared the shit out of me, you know."
"I know... I'm sorry." 
"Are you gonna tell me why? You don't have to, but it would be nice." 
"I've been relapsing. Back into my eating disorder and cutting but it's bad this time. Really bad." 
"You're beautiful, you know." 
"No." 
I sigh, realizing how serious she was. 
"We're working on this together, okay? You're gonna get better no matter what lengths I have to go to." 

She sighed, before nodding. She realizes I'm being serious. 
"Now... gimmie that smile." I chuckle, starting to gently tickle her. 
She giggles, hiding her face in the pillow. 
She was so adorable. I wish she could see it. "I love you." 
"I know, C. I love you, too." 
"Promise we'll work on this together?"
She sighs again. "I promise."

"Pinky promise?"
"Pinky promise."

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