You had given up. Given up on everything. On everyone.
Michael was your saviour. But just recently, you were at your worst, and Michael wasnt there to help. You were going mental. Pulling your hair out. Cutting your arms, taking pills. Seeing things, hearing things. And eating nothing. You were so stressed out and no one was there to help. Michael had been on tour for 5 months or so. You missed him so much, but nothing would bring him back. He still had another 3-4 months
You ran upstairs to your bathroom. Rummaging through the draws, with tears running down your face. Your blade was no where to be seen. You screamed and more tears fell down your cheeks. You began grabbing your belly tight, still screaming. You were 'mental'. Your mentions were still blowing up on twitter
'Kill yourself' 'your ugly' 'wtf are you doing with life' 'mike hasn't come to visit because he doesn't love you.' 'Michael deserves better Example: me'
You grabbed your razor and started fiddling with it. Trying your hardest to get the blade out. You sat on the floor. Blurred, ready vision. And a blade in your left hand hovering over your right arm.
'Pls just let me die,' you whispered. A tear escaping your eye as you swiped the blade against your fresh arm. Blood bubbled to the surface. A smile erupted on your lips. The pain. Oh how you deserved it.
*15 Mins Later*
Your vision became blurred. Multiple cuts escalated up your arm. Deep as hell. You lied in a pool of your own blood. Your eyes slowly closing as you heard someone approach the bathroom door.
'Baby?' Michael. His thick Australian accent shot through you like a bullet. He couldn't see you like this. Shit. You let out a groan as your eyes closed.
*Michaels P.O.V.*
'Baby?' I said, I came close to the bathroom door. I came home to surprise my baby girl. I hadn't seen her for 5 months and I missed her like hell. I approached the bathroom door slowly. I opened it, expecting her to be wrapped in a towel and her hair dripping wet. But what I saw, was the unexpected. She lie on the floor, circled in blood. Cuts travelled up her arms. Tear stains marked her face. Her phone blowing up with mentions. Tears fell from my eyes as I rang the ambulance. No this couldn't happen. Not my baby girl. Not today!
'Hello?' The women on the end of the phone said.
'Hi, erm, my girlfriend is lying on the floor unconcious, she has cut her self really deep in the arms and she has lost alot of blood! Can you pls send out help now!' I screamed into the phone.
'Where do you live?' I gave her the address and stayed on the phone until the ambulance arrived. She was rushed away. I was left on the bathroom floor, sitting in her pool of blood. Tears stained my face.
Calum's P.O.V.
I just got in from a long journey back to Australia. Michael was coming home to see y/n but he wanted it to be a surprise. I turned on the tv just as my phone started vibrating in my back pocket. I pulled it out and read the name. 'Clifford the Dog'
All of a sudden I felt a bad feeling in my gut.
'Hello?' I answered the phone. I could hear beach breathing at the other end.
'Can you- pls c-come take-e me t-to the h-hospital pl-ease,' I heard him breath into the phone. He sounded as if he was crying.
'Alright mate, explain to me when I get there. Will be there in 5!' I said before putting my shoes on and running to the car.
As I pulled up outside Michaels house, Michael came running out. His eyes puffy, his cheeks were red and tear stained. He slammed the door shut and stared into the distance. Like he was looking for someone.
