Sing Along Spoby One-Shots

Antidote

A/N: I am going to go ahead and issue a bit of a trigger warning on this one-shot.
It's downright depressing and implies brief mentions of suicidal thoughts.

Mostly a character study of Spencer toward the end of season three. She had been broken, robbed of her sanity, and at rock bottom. We saw many sides of her depression and lack of life, but I'm exploring a bit more here; things she never said on the show but may or may not have thought/felt.

This is, without a doubt, the saddest one-shot I've written thus far, and I want you to know that you are not alone in your tears.

Please proceed with caution- there will be /no/ suicide nor attempted suicide, but with imply brief thoughts on the subject.

-------------------------------------------------------

Finding refuge in my own lies.
How are you? I'm doing alright.

She was safe there.
Safe perhaps. An interesting change.

She had half a mind to lie.
Lie, lie, lie.

She knew that was how she got here, and frankly, she craved it. She needed it. She lied, she lied all of the time. She lied and she became the fish in a shark tank. She lied and she became a pawn to the only person crazy, stupid, enough to love her.

She deserved it.

Lying became the oxygen she breathed; the nicotine that killed her and saved her all the same.

At first, she did it because she had to. She had to pretend -A didn't exist, she had to tell Toby she didn't love him, she had to keep everybody safe.

And then, she did it because she needed to. Because she needed to tell everybody that she was alright when somebody asked her how she was, because she needed to hate Toby and love Toby and blame Toby even though it is her fault, needed to because she was to blame.

'How are you?'
'I'm fine.'

'Are you hungry today?'
'I'm fine.'

'What happened to you?'
'I'm fine.'

She was fine. Fine, fine, fine, to blame, worthless, nothing, fine, fine, fine.

Small talk is a great disguise.
Just let me be
Just let me be.

L E T M E B E L E T M E B E L E T M E B E
A mantra that whispered, shouted, yelled, screamed, echoed inside of her head, out loud, in her friend's faces, to her phone.
She yelled like she lied and she lied like she breathed and eventually, she was slipping away. She was slipping so.. f..ar..

a w a y.

Empty thoughts start to crowd my mind.
Am I only living,
living to survive?
Shake it off,
but I've lost the drive.

Her mind became the vacuum she was sucked into.

A wave that fell and chased and swallowed and wiped her away.

Her sanity had become a lace. Hanging on by a thread that also carried a sword. 

The lace was worn. Worn
worn
worn
worn