Markiplier Imagines (Mark X Reader)

Do you really? (part 1)

Wake up. I can't open my eyes or mouth but I'm awake. I know I am. I am thinking. This isn't a dream. This. Isn't. A. Dream. Wake up. Get up now. Move.

My body jerks awake and my back straightens up. My eyes take some work to open. One at a time. I blink a couple times and adjust to the dimness of the room.

It's a dark morning, probably overcast. I open my curtains and see that it's beginning to drizzle. Another rainy day I guess.

I take the blankets off of myself and stand up. I stare into my eyes through the mirror next to my bed. They are slowly turning gray. My eyes used to be blue, but they began turning to gray as the days went by.

Your eyes are dead. There's nothing for you to live for. Why don't you just kill yourself and get it over with. Spare people the horror of seeing your face every day.

I remember my dad telling me that almost every morning since I was 9. He hates me. I can understand that. I deserve it. No one can or will ever love me.

I promised myself and my friend Mark I wouldn't do anything until I turned 20. Well, today is my twentieth birthday. Not like he cares much anyways.

I'm going to kill myself. Why not?

I decide to wear a burgundy gown with laces in the back. I grab my bodice and put that on. Still not skinny. I then put the dress over my head and knot the laces tightly. I brush my hair and I put some makeup on for the first time. Still not pretty.

I walk to the kitchen and grab the biggest knife I could find. It is a bit dulled so I sharpen it with another knife. Don't want any... Accidents.

I check to make sure the front door is locked, so no one can just walk in. I sit on the couch and lean back, knife in hand. Finally a weight off of everyone's shoulders.

I place the tip where my heart is. I close my eyes and I take a deep breath. Knock, knock, knock.

I open my eyes. Was that my imagination? I turn towards the door.

Knock knock knock.

I guess not. Well, might as well see a delivery man last. At least he doesn't know me. I stand up, set the knife down and open the door.

"Mark?"