Scars To You're Beautiful - W.M

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Written by Abbie
Written for @thewiseguy01

I'm so sorry for this being late. 

★TRIGGER WARNING- MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION AND SELF-HARM★
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You are such a happy person. You were living life to its fullest and being the person you are. You even had an amazing girlfriend, Wanda Maximoff. There seemed as if there was nothing wrong in your life. But no one would've ever thought.

Wanda found out by accident. You were out on a mission while she had to stay home due to a previous injury. Because she couldn't do much, Wanda decided to clean. There wasn't much to clean in your shared apartment, but it gave her something to do. As she was cleaning your shared bedroom, she dropped an item and it rolled under the bed. When she had gotten on the floor to retrieve it, she noticed one lone shoebox under there. It was odd. There was nothing else under there besides that box. She pulled it out along with the dropped item. She sat on her knees and carefully opened the box. Inside were only two things. The first item she pulled out was a box cutter. She pushed the blade up and noticed that it was slightly stained a rust color. Confusion spread through her. She set the cutter down and picked up what appeared to be a journal next. She flipped to the first page and began to read:

I can't believe I'm doing this. I never thought that it would get this bad. The depression has finally taken its toll. I can't take it anymore. I'm gonna see what it feels like.

A drop of blood can be seen on the edge of the page.

It feels... good. It takes away from the thoughts. It makes me focus on the pain. I kinda like it.

~ (Y/N)

Wanda finally starts to piece things together until they all finally click.

You were once depressed. To a point where it caused you to start cutting. You wrote in the journal every time you did. And that's what the box cutter was for. As she kept thinking, she didn't notice tears roll down her cheeks.
That's why you always wore something to cover your wrists. You had scars. Wanda was practically sobbing at this point. All the times she looked inside your head, she never once saw anything of that kind.

"Wanda I'm home!"

She didn't even hear the front door unlock. She quickly put the journal and cutter back into the box and closed it. She picked it up and took it with her to where you're were resting at the kitchen table. You didn't even notice her walk in because you were so tired.

Wanda set the box down on the table, catching your attention. Your blood ran cold as you saw the familiar box.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Wanda's voice quivered.

"I didn't want to worry you-" you tried to explain.

"Let me see. Your wrists."

You pull up your sleeves with a sigh and turn your wrists up. Pale scars of jagged lines are adorned up and down on them. Wanda lets out a gasp and covers her mouth with her hand in shock. 

"I didn't tell you because it was all in the past. I'm good now. I've got the gang, your brother, and most importantly; you. You all keep me grounded and make me feel safe. So don't worry about me." You told her. 

Wanda slowly approaches you and takes your hands in hers, wrists still up. After she looked over them for a moment. She kissed each wrist. 

"Promise me, that if you ever, ever, feel like that again, to tell me." 

"I promise. Now, I haven't seen you in a week. Come here!" You pull her into a bear hug, lifting her off the floor. 

Everything was good. You were happy. You wish Wanda had entered your life a lot earlier though. But you were content. 


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I do not in any way condemn self-harm. If you or someone you know needs help, please help them. 

Sorry, this is so short too, I struggle writing this kind of stuff. 

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