One Chicago Imagines

POV: You End It All

tw: cursing, suicide, mentioning of verbal abuse, ed, sh

pairings: erin lindsay x fem!reader friend, hailey upton x fem!reader friend, kim burgess x fem!reader friend

You're sitting in the locker room, holding your gun in your hands.  You're surveying it as you sob through a soft smile, running your fingers along every edge.

Erin, Hailey, and Kim walk in, one behind the other.  They stop in their tracks when they see you on the bench, now laughing hysterically through your tears.

"Y/N, what are you doing?  What's wrong?" Hailey asks, taking a step closer to you.  You flinch at the movement, and then continue laughing.

"Hey, baby?"  Erin takes a breath.

Kim tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before talking.  "Y/N?"

"This day is finally here!  It's finally here.  For a month and a half, I've just been counting down until this day.  And now it's here!"  You shake your head, chuckling.

"Y/N, you've gotta put that gun down," Erin says, realizing what you're talking about.  She puts her hands out as she takes a step toward you.

"No.  Nope.  I'm not going to put it down."

"Why no-?" Kim starts, tears forming in her eyes, as well as Erin and Hailey's.

"Because I can't fucking do this anymore!  I live every single fucking day of my life..." you trail off, not being able to find the right word.

"I'm not sad, I'm not mad, I'm not happy, I'm not excited -- hell, I'm not even tired anymore!  I'm just fucking done!"

"No, no.  This doesn't have to be the end of your story..." Hailey cries, tilting her head.

"I know it doesn't have to be, but... I want it to be.  I'm fucking done, okay?!  That's it!  I can't fucking take it anymore!  I am jealous of people with anxiety.  Do you know how fucking cruel that feels?  To be jealous of people who can barely even relax a single second?  Sure, I have anxiety, yeah.  But mine is mild.  I'm jealous of the people who are anxious all the time.  It doesn't feel right, but I... just... am."

Erin shakes her head, not understanding.  "Why?"

"BECAUSE I DON'T FUCKING FEEL ANYTHING ANYMORE!"  You sob for a minute, just looking down at the gun in your hands, tightening your grip on it.

"I feel nothing!  The happiness only lasts for the moment.  The pain only lasts for a moment.  It doesn't stay!  It never stays!  I just want to be sad for a day!  Happy!  Mad!  I don't feel anything!"

"But you will!  You will eventually be happy!  Truly happy..." Kim sobs, falling to her knees.  Hailey squeezes her shoulder.

"No.  I don't care anymore.  It doesn't matter!  I don't feel anything.  You don't know what I have to do to make myself feel.  Sad TikToks; warm, fuzzy cups of delicious coffee; binge-watching my comfort shows; making edits; writing... all that doesn't fucking cut it anymore!  I just want to feel!"

"Y/N, put the gun down," Hailey coos, squatting down to the floor.  Erin joins her.

"You know what does work?  Starving myself until I feel like fainting and my hair falls out, and cutting myself until I can't feel the burning words of my parents every fucking day!"

"What?" Hailey whispers.

"Y/N... your parents... abused you?" Erin asks, a tear falling from her cheek.

"Why didn't you tell us?"  Hailey looks at you with a sympathetic, compassionate look.  It makes you feel icky and vulnerable inside.

"Practically every fucking day they told me how horrible I was, how much of a fucking worthless bitch I was, how much of a burden I was, how I was never enough.  The worst part is... they didn't even realize they were doing anything wrong..." you trail off, whimpering as another tear falls from your face.

"They still do, even now that I'm an adult.  I don't live with them anymore and it still fucking hurts.  I can't do it anymore.  The flashbacks, the self-harm, the disordered eating...  I'm so sorry..." you whisper.  You slowly and steadily lift up the gun, bringing it to the side of your head.

"I got the occasional object thrown at my head, the tackle for my phone, the audible slap.  You know, you learn to duck."

A gentle smile grows across your face.

"The yelling and controlling and rude comments were the best, though."

Your smile widens just a bit at your sarcasm and the peacefulness of the moment.  You rest your finger on the trigger.

"Y/N... you have to put the gun down," Hailey cries, fear coursing through her veins.  She can't lose you.
"Please, baby.  You can't do this.  Please don't end it."  Erin cries, her hands resting on her lap.

Kim steps in, trying to give you every possible reason to live that she can think of on the spot.

"Y/N/N.  No.  Don't.  Put the gun down.  Right now.  You can't do this to us, Y/N.  Think of all the things you'll miss.  Karaoke nights at Molly's after a long week.  Sunrise runs and sunset walks by the river.  Girls' days.  Dogs.  Kittens.  Fucking babies, Y/N.  You can't say goodbye to fucking babies.  Hell, you have to have a fucking baby!  You're going to find someone, an amazing person who will love you endlessly for who you are, and you're going to raise amazing little beautiful babies together.  You can't fucking do this, Y/N.  You can't fucking do this."

This entire time, you're shaking your head, crying.

"Yes.  Yes, I can."

And on that, you do it.  You pull the trigger.

word count: 940
short, simple, basically a vent/comfort story i wrote.  we love how i had no motivation so i wrote a vent story, and then i didn't even have the motivation to read it over.  so, enjoy this that i finished writing like over a week ago lol