billie eilish | imagines

'soap carving

↬trigger warning: suicidal scenes (feel free to leave if you don't feel reading such)

I watched Billie through the window here in my room as she hopped on her motorcycle after wearing her helmet. Personally, I hate motorcycles because I don't feel so safe with that moving lifeless creature and I told Billie about that, but she just let my words walk out off her other ear.

I let out a frustrating sigh out loud. My chest completely heavy as if there's something stuck in it. I smiled on the paper wherein I wrote my last message for Billie. I hated that I feel this way which in fact, I don't even have the right to feel so much jealousy towards that Octavia. Like, I shouldn't care about them dating because I'm just Billie's childhood best friend. I'm living with her for almost three years here in our shared apartment and we go to the same school.

Everyone thinks Billie is a bitch but they're wrong. Billie is sweet and caring on her own little ways, it's just that she's not the showy type of person. She's straightforward and never ever, Billie would sugarcoat words. If she hates you, she'll tell you. If she sees something stupid you do, she'll slap it on your face. That's who she is but I swear to the Almighty, she's a lovely person.

I know her since we were six. Never in my life I imagine myself being in love with my best friend.

I covered my mouth trying to stop my sobs. I didn't notice I'm crying this hard now. "I'm sorry, Billie."

I looked at my letter and read it once again.

My dearest Bil,

I'm sorry you have to witness my horrible death, I don't really want you to, but I have no choice. I have a dot-like care for myself, that's why I don't wanna die somewhere outside our apartment. Billie, I love you. I love you so much to the point I can't handle the pain of seeing you with someone else. I know and understand that you won't ever like someone like me. Someone like (y/n) who grew up with you. The (y/n) who stops you from your vices like smoking and drinking too much. The (y/n) who stops you from driving motorcycles. You won't ever like someone like me because I am just your best friend. Ha, am I even your best friend, Bil? Because you're mine. I mean, you're my best friend and I like you more than that. I'm sorry if I cross my limits everytime, I just care about you a lot. I always want you safe and sound. Forgive me if I'm being too nosy on your business. The past few months, all I wanted was for you to share me what happened on your class, tell me all the highlights of your day in school because we're not always together in there. You used to do that and for unknown reasons, you just stopped and it hurts, Bil. I miss you singing with me. I miss you. I care for you but yours seems to vanish. If it's something I've done, I'm sorry. You should've told me, but don't worry. I still love you. Don't blame yourself, okay? I made my decision. I love you.

With love,
(y/n)

I folded my letter and placed it on top of my bed where she can easily see it as I wiped my tears on my sleeve then sat on the floor with my back rested on the side of the bed.

With my hands shaking, I took the blade out of the paper cover and the light from the ceiling reflected on the metal making it shine so I stared at it for a little while. My heart was pounding against its cage, other side of me wanted to stop but I can't. I can't handle it no more.

I took a deep breath and started burying the blade on my left wrist as I slid it and in a snap, I bursted out loud crying. My hands lost the strength to move. The cold blade against my skin left a burning pain. I saw my blood start dripping down and with my left hand utterly in pain, I took the blade and when I was about to cut my other wrist... someone slammed the door out loud.