SHE NEEDS HELP | B.E

𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣 | REM sleep

trigger warning! self harm and thoughts of suicide

BILLIE POV

"Here you go Billie" A male worker said, as he placed a tray on the table next to me. There was a burrito with chopped up pineapple and a glass of water.

I turned my head and stared at the food in front of me emotionlessly, and he made his way out of the room, shutting the door behind me.

Ignoring the food in front of me, I got up from my bed and walked around the room. Nothing. There was nothing that could hurt me.

Fuck.

I paced around the room faster. My breaths quickened and sweat ran down my face.

"Billie. I know you may not think this now but trust me, these people are here to help you. They care about you as much as we do"

I don't need help.

"You will get better Billie, don't worry. Everything will go back to normal with some time"

I don't need help.

"You will even be able to see Melissa again if you give yourself the time to get better"

"I don't need help!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "I don't need help! Get me out of here! I don't need help!"

But really, I was going insane.

I started bashing on the plain wall with my fist, imagining it was breaking more and more. The truth was, the wall didn't change. Not even a little bit. It stood there, mocking my attempt of breaking it down.

Tears started spilling down my rosy cheeks. My lips trembled and I was gasping for air that simply wasn't there.

A silent scream left my lips, feeling myself being pulled into a void of insanity. That's when I remembered.

The glass cup.

I rushed over to the table where my food was and I grabbed the glass, desperately chugging the water down.

I felt the liquid burn my throat because of how fast I was drinking it. Once every drop went down my throat, I threw the glass against the wall.

Perfect.

I saw it divide into small pieces when it came in contact with the wall and I quickly went over to pick up a piece.

Bringing the glass closer to my arm, I felt a smile creep onto my face. That's when I dragged it down my arm. A thick line of crimson immediately appeared on my skin and the liquid started running down my arm.

I laughed at the pain I felt. The pain I deserve.

I repeated the same onto my opposite arm, however, my mind drifted back to my love.

Melissa.

I remember seeing the cuts on her inner thigh. I remember how broken I felt when I saw each red line cover her beautiful, tender skin.