Sterek one-shots

I Promise, I'm Not Okay

"Stilinski!" One of them called me after class ended. "What do you want?" I sighed.

"Why are you so fucking retarded?" He laughed.

"Can I go now?" I asked. He slammed me against a locker.

"You do know that everyone hates you, right?" He snapped. "Those 'friends' of yours are going to drop you as soon as they realize what a piece of trash you really are." He said letting go of me. I nodded "Thanks for the heads up." I mumbled walking off.

"What was that faggot!?" He yelled shoving me to the ground.

"Get the hell away from him." I heard Scott snap and a loud thud. I looked to see Scott beating the crap out of him.

I got up and walked away.

"Stiles!" Scott yelled behind me as I walked toward my jeep. "Stiles!"

"What!? What do you want!?" I snapped turning around.

"What is your problem?" He asked.

"My problem? My problem is that I told you not to do anything and you totally ignored me and did whatever the hell you wanted to do." I snapped.

"I'm not going to just standby and let those assholes hurt you everyday!" he yelled.

"I'm fine Scott! You probably just made things ten times worse! Leave me alone!" I yelled getting into my jeep and slamming the door shut.

'useless'

'ugly'

'faggot'

'nobody'

The things they say never leave my head. It's like a broken record repeating itself over and over and over again.

But, I'm okay.

no I'm not

I can handle this.

no I can't

I don't need anyone's help.

yes I do

I sighed walking into my bathroom and grabbing my blade from the mirror cabinet.

Hello old friend.

I just needed something small to distract me, to take away the pain, just for a little while.

I dragged the blade across my wrist, once, twice. The blood slowly trickling from the cut. I started crying as the blood ran down my arm. I'm so worthless. I cut my arm again. I'm a nobody. I turned on the faucet. Nobody actually likes me. I rinsed off the blade. The blood from my arm covering the sink. Hell, I don't even like me. I took a deep breathe and washed my arm, bandaging it. The same routine as normal. I set the blade back in its spot, closed the mirror, and crawled into bed.

"Stiles."

"Stiles?"

"Stiles!"

I shook my head, my thoughts being rushed back into reality. "Sorry, what?" I looked over to see Derek.

"I asked what you were doing?" He repeated.

I looked down seeing I was holding two pill bottles from his mirror cabinet. "I was looking for something for my headache." I replied. That is the original reason I came in here.