Happy

A/N- Heyyy, so request for Dean x reader!

EDIT: IM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT OMG TWO MONTHS LATER OR MORE RIP ME SORRY

Requested by: SlytherinSkywalker

TRIGGER WARNING: Pill abuse, depression
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Happiness.

That was the concept that had evaded her for as long as she could remember.

She didn't know what happiness was anymore. She didn't know what it was supposed to be.

She knew it wasn't normal to not feel happiness. She knew she was sick. A disgrace. A mistake.

A freak.

It was these thoughts that plagued her throughout her short, miserable life. It was these thoughts that drove her to making the choice; a single choice that had made all the difference in her life.

One day, sick of her depressing thoughts, and wanting nothing more than to be happy, she did it.

She took the pills. She took more than what she was prescribed. She swallowed the fistful of antidepressants.

Two at a time.

Maybe then she would be happy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And on it went. As the years progressed, so did the amount of pills she consumed weekly.

She forced a smile onto her face daily, faking happiness and hoping against hope that she would feel genuine happiness through the depths of her despair.

However, the world is not a wish granting factory. (A/N - See what I did there ;D)

Now a "healthy" 26 years old, (y/n) was wiping down the counters at the dingy bar she worked at, her (h/c) hair sweeping over her shoulder.

As she worked, shady men eyed her up and wolf-whistled crudely. She flashed them a sickly sweet smile every time and occasionally followed up with a good stomp of her stilettos on their feet.

Rinsing the cloth for the twentieth time that night, she sighed and thought about how disappointed she was with herself.

A waitress at a bar. Wiping tables.

Yeah. Real successful.

Her parents were dead, so she didn't really have anyone else who could be disappointed by her. She supposed it was a good thing.

She distantly heard the jingle of the bar door, still lost in her thoughts.

Her mind turned to those men. Why did they have to act that way?  She already knew she was ugly. So why did they pretend? She glanced up and caught her reflection, distorted by the curve of the bottle she was staring at.

Her (e/c) eyes were larger in the bottle's reflection, her (s/t) skin stretched oddly.

The sound of a man clearing his throat interrupted her train of thought. She sighed in an irritated manner, expecting this new man to be no different than the other shady scumbags she was constantly being harassed by.

Steeling her nerves, she turned with a clearly false smile, facing the -

Young man?

Silence.