Lachlan Fanfics

Dear Diary pt5

After that day, Lachlan and I started hanging out a lot.
A lot a lot.
Which was fucking surprising for me because before Lachlan I had NO social life.
I was happy until the temptations came back.

Dear Diary,
I never really talked about my family life a lot. That's because my parents constantly fought.
My little brother Jack who is in 8th grade is used to it. My parents have been fighting since he was a year old. It didn't effect him as much as it did me.
That's because when I was younger, my parents were actually happy.
My dad didn't drink every night and my mom didn't throw glass everywhere when she got stressed.
My parents haven't fought much recently... well they probably have but I'm out of the house a lot because I'm either at school or with Lachlan.
But tonight my parents are fighting. I'm hearing screaming and bottles clashing. Jack is in his room. I'm in mine. I wonder if Jack hears this?
I can't take it anymore... My parents fighting. Vanessa. Anxiety. Depression.
I had enough.

Tears poured down my cheeks. Should I call Lachlan?
No.
I don't want to bother him with my problems.
I got up and went to the bathroom.
(Trigger warning. Don't read if easily triggered)
I locked the bathroom door and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't look well. Eyebrows narrowed, soft and puffy red eyes from crying.
I took a sharp blade from the drawer. I held out my wrists.
Cut.
Slice.
Bleed.
Repeat.
Both wrists. It hurt. But it felt nice to hurt physically instead of emotionally.
Cut.
Cuts deeper and deeper.
More blood.
Then I heard the door rattle.
"(Y/N) what are you doing in there?"

Jacks voice...
I cut once more but this was the deepest cut. The room started to fade. I got dizzy. The door opened. Jack screamed.
Then all I could see is black.

Did I want to die?
Good question.
Life was shit for me. I spent the last four years wishing to die.
Did I want to die now? What about Lachlan?
Lachlan made my life decent. He was the only person keeping me going.
But then why did I cut?

Non-Triggering
Beep...
Beep...
Beep...
My eyes opened. I lay in the hospital bed. I looked around. My wrists were wrapped up.
So I'm not dead.
The nurse then came in. She gave me a weak smile.
"How are you feeling?"
She asked me. I sighed.
"Like a person who cut herself should feel...: Like shit."
I responded.
"Did you take your antidepressants before you cut yourself?"
She asked me. I shook my head. I thought I was okay that day.
"No."
I responded.
"Why not?"
She asked. I rolled my eyes.
"Honestly, I didn't sign up for therapy. Isn't this a hospital?"
I asked the nurse. The nurse nodded.
"Yes it is but your little brother was devastated."
Jack. Right.
"Then I want to see him."