Drown (Markiplier x Reader)

Chapter 1

Trigger Warning: self-harm, suicidal thoughts, and suicide.

¤your pov¤

Your breathing grew loud and rapid. Your heart stammered in its place, beating much faster than it should. Your eyes grew teary and heavy. Your heart feels heavy and so do your shoulders, from all the world's weight you have to carry. Your sobs grow loud, turning into howls of pain. They echo through your now, lonely house. One that was filled with warmth and love at some point.

What happened to us?

You think.

What happened to this family?

You keep thinking.

Did we all just stop caring?

Your mind toys with you.

Did I disappoint them?

You hate the voice in your head. It tells you that everything that led up to this point in time was your fault. All the embarrassing things that happened to you, all the low grades, all the times you weren't being a 'normal kid'.

The cold tile of your restroom seems to feel more like home than anything else at this point. You've grown to notice and memorize the patterns. Three tiles to your right, a crack has formed. Four tiles to your left is some spilled nail polish from when your best friend used to come over and she decided to give you a makeover. Ahead of you is the third broken mirror this month and the sometimes leaky faucet, which is currently the only other noise besides your howls of pain, is on.

You tremble as more sobs wrack your body. Your hands tug on your hair and your nails scratch at the skin on your neck as you let out a roar of anger. Your knuckles turn white from how tight you clench them.

'Do it, grab that razor and feel the sting.'

"Why?"

'It's the only thing showing you're still alive, unfortunately.'

"But I'm finally at three months clean."

'You didn't seem to care when you broke that 13-month streak, now did you? A year and a month down the drain.'

"No, but I care now."

'No you don't. No one would care if you did it anyway. One scratch wouldn't kill anybody. Grab the lighter, hold it to that clean skin. No one will care.'

"Tracy will care. I promised her no more," you say, referring to your best friend. You'd known her since third grade but didn't become best friends until seventh grade.

'Do you really think she'll care? She has a boyfriend and other friends, all she'll do is ask why you did it, tell you she'll be there and never speak to you again until you initiate it. If she truly cared, you wouldn't be here. Plus, she's shown you how big of a bitch she is in the past. She doesn't care. Never has.'

"Kaily cares. So do Bren and Kara."

'Kaily will only tell you the harsh truth you can't handle. Bren is unreachable at the moment and you don't want to expose Kara to this, now do you?'

"No..." you whisper. You reach for the blade, running it against your now somewhat clean skin. You didn't do too much damage, but enough to feel the sting.

'Exactly, now how about we finish the job for good. There are at least 15 different pill bottles in the medicine cabinet, all painkillers. Take them all, it'll kill your pain.'

"It'll kill me too."

'Exactly.'

Without any more thought, you reach up into the medicine cabinet and hold a full bottle of painkillers in your hand. You stare down at it and decide to grab a paper and pen. You set the pills down and start writing.

Dear anybody,

I know this was selfish, but I couldn't keep going. My family isn't the same. My friends have all moved on to much more important things. I don't blame you all, it's all my fault. Maybe if I'd been a better daughter or a better sibling or even a better friend. Maybe this is for the best. I know I'm not much here, I'm not needed and I take up space where someone better could be. Once I'm 6 feet under, you'll all forget about me and I'm fine with that because why would anybody mourn over me. I'm not worth anybody's tears or pity. I've been depressed for years now and no matter what, I could never make you guys understand what I'm going through. I don't expect you to. I feel as though I've been a disappointment that was burdening you all, so that's why I'm out.

I'm sorry to all those people I let down. I hope everything gets better without me here.

Sincerely,

Y/n

You fold the letter and set it on the counter. You look down at the pills and count to ten. You swallow them all and lean back as you allow the pills to do their job. You can't control your body and you have no idea what's going on. The room begins to fade when all of a sudden you hear a familiar voice.

"Y/n...wake...y/n!...up-" you hear the voice of Tracy yell. You smile as you see the world fade to black.

++

Every once in a while, you fade back in and out. The first time, you hear sirens. The second time, you feel movement. The third time, you see people rushing. The fourth time, you smell medical equipment, and the fifth you see the white walls before you finally walk into the blackness.

××

So, I almost forgot to post this. But alas, the update and it's still Saturday here. Today was a pretty bad day and so was yesterday. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better. I hope you enjoyed it.