Jenna Ortega Imagines

I just want to die sometimes (always)

A/N: Tw, ED and SH, comforting ending. Slight implication of little space as a trauma reponse.

Why was it always here in this small warm bathroom that you found yourself hunched over, fingers deep in your throat? Why was it always when Jenna left that you found every single habit repeating itself, like your body's own way of tormenting itself? Why did this stupid feeling return every time she went out, even to get groceries.

Finally, you let out a heave, the lunch that had been forced down by your own will to look 'okay' flowing out of you, leaving you feeling tired and empty. You fell backwards onto the floor, not minding as your head buzzed with the impact. Sometimes you couldn't help but wish it would kill you. Every little cut in your arm. You wished it would wash away the effects of this cruel world, but it never did.

The blade in your hand stung as it penetrated your skin, but you didn't want to bring it to your arms. Not yet. You let yourself bask in the disgust and pain that purging brought you. Let yourself feel the thick saliva and sour tang that coated your mouth. Maybe you would choke on it.

Eventually, the taste wore off and the blade made its way to your arms, though at this point you hardly felt it, it was just a blade. A small throb that left a trail of blood. The blood that you lived for. Watching in satisfaction as what kept you alive dripped down onto the white floors, pooling into the cracks where the mouldings were. Each cut was auto-piolet. You deserved it. All of this pain was your fault. You craved it.

Maybe it was the lightheaded feeling, maybe it was the way your shirt looked a little too red, but finally, you let your hand drop back down. You wanted Jenna back, you wanted her to run through the door and stop you, but she never came home fast enough. She never found out.

With a deep breath,  you forced yourself off the floor, ignoring the way your head spun as you washed and bandaged yourself, walking back into the main living space, laying yourself on the couch and turning on a TV show. You were so out of it you didn't know what it was. Maybe Braking Bad. Jenna liked that one.

"Y/N!" The sound of your name filled the house and you wished you could stand up to greet it, yet you felt too faint. Too hurt. Too done.

"Are you alseep again?! I brought home the ingredients to make sushi! Some rice, mayo, avocado, carrots..." she continued to list items, the sound of her footsteps drawing closer. "- some peppers and cucumbers and-"

"Yam?"

Jenna's head popped into the room, a grin set wide on her face. "I knew I forgot something! If you had just come with meeee..."

"I don't always just wanna go into town, Jen," you giggled, feeling as her arms snaked over the couch and around your shoulders, luckily not brushing any of the fresh wounds.

"But we could have maybe should have gotten some Dairy Queen..." Even the more reason not to come.

"Mmm I think I'm okay."

Jenna let go of you, wandering back over to the kitchen. "Well I could at least use some help whipping the rice into shape." She smacked the wall, imitating...well a spanking.

"Uh huh."

"Or yo-"

"Jenna!"

"I said nothing," she winked, grabbing a pot and starting to fill it with water.

Though admittedly your arms burned and your stomach felt raw and empty, along with a lasting sting in your throat, you pushed yourself off the couch, taking the veggies from the bag and a cutting bord. The knife felt dangerous in your hands, like it was daring you to turn it in on yourself, yet you just ground your teeth. No. Not in front of Jenna.

"Y/N? You good?" She paused, having just finished pouring the rice into the water.

Snapping out of your trance, you quickly dropped the knife, taking a large step back as if it had burned you. "Uh- I-"

"Did it cut you?" She ran forward and grabbed your hands, examining them before you could pull away. No no no. Shit. Shit shit SHIT. Her finger gripped your wrist and you gasped as you felt one of the cuts split open.

Your sleeves were being pulled up, yet there was nothing you could do except stand there. Frozen. Fear? Maybe. You didn't know, all you knew is the look of pure fear that danced it's way across Jenna's face as she saw it. Everything.

"Y/N..."

"Jenna..." you tried to say it in a joking tone, but it fell flat, hanging in the air like a lost memory.

"I-" her face flushed, eyes going glossy. "Why."

"There wasn't a reason, it was just an accident, honestly not even that, more of a slip up, doesn't even hurt, don't worry it's not like-"

"I asked you a freaking question, answer me!" She dropped your arm, teeth clenched. "Tell me why you would do this!"

"Lunch." The only word that exited your mouth. The only word that could under her stare of pure...anger? Fear? Disgust? You didn't know.

"You did it at lunch? I was with you that's impossible don't-"

"Because of lunch," you felt panic rise in your chest, making you want to sob. Scream. Anything.

A look of odd understanding crossed her features, and then she was hugging you. For a second you just stood there, shocked, unsure, but slowly you felt your own arms wrap around her back, than a tear fall, followed by another, and another, until you broke into full sobs, your hands tightened into fists, clutching her shirt, snot and spit probably getting all over her neck, yet she didn't let go.

"I'm sorry Jenna, I'm sorry!" You pinched your eyes shut, wishing the sting would stop, go away for once in your whole damn life.

"It's okay, I understand."

The world went silent, the words ringing around your ears. It's okay. I understand. You knew what the words ment. You knew from the way her body swayed with yours, the way your body's breath slowed and relaxed.

"You aren't mad?"

She pulled back from the hug, grasping your face between her ringed fingers. "How can I be mad at you when I have been in that exact place. Felt those exact things. Eating disorders are no freaking joke. The cuts, their like a form of punishment...right? When you do something your brain says isn't allowed, you hurt yourself because you disobeyed your own rule."

She understood. She was there for you.

"So, how about we pull down your sleeves again and cook some damn sushi."

You blinked in confusion for a second, than watched as she stirred to rice water. Who knew five seconds could be all you needed to feel happy again, even for a little bit.

A/N: Sometimes the best thing you can do is nothing.