The Horrors Of Which My Past Has Haunted Me (Darkiplier/Damien x Reader)

Noli Me Tangere

The next few days pass with no interactions with Mark at all. In fact, they passed with no interactions at all. I was by myself, day in and day out.

All That happens is a knock on the door each morning afternoon and evening that accompanied a tray laying outside the door with some sort of meal. I'd normally only take a few bites and place the tray back at the door.

It was hard to eat.

I was never really hungry.

Is this what depression is like?

I can't take it anymore.

I get up slowly, my body sore from the lack of action the last few days. After stretching, I take a few wobbly steps forward, going to the bathroom that was attached to my room. The bathroom was a twist of elegant gold and black, the pipes and knobs all a shiny gold hue and the mirror being surrounded by a beautifully intricate, golden frame. I sigh softly and slowly take off the clothing I wore, a knee length sleep dress that was a shade of soft lavender.

When waking up here, I had quickly realized that Mark had made the closets full of clothing for me, ranging from formal wear to sleep wear. It was very kind of him to think that far into it.

It drops to my ankles and I step out softly, letting out a small sigh as I turn on the water to the shower. My hand reaches out to the water, feeling the cool substance hit and roll off the skin.

I turn it up higher and then step in, the water running down my skin. The water feels hot, nearing scalding, but it didn't really matter anyway. I sigh softly, my mind feeling blank as I stare forward, taking a loofah and making it soapy, gently scrubbing my arms and legs.

I reach my scar and pause again, staring at the pale, circular spot with a blank distain. My thin fingers reach up and trace around it, a soft shiver running through my body as I do.

I should be dead.

I'm supposed to be dead.

It hurt to think about, really. I don't know why it did, but I couldn't shake this guilt and dread that came with surviving. I couldn't handle the solitude and isolation of abandonment.

How was I supposed to live with this?

I grip my chest, having trouble breathing as I sit on ground. Water runs down my face, masking the tears that follow. How is someone like me supposed to just accept what fate I've been given?

How do I tie into this at all?

I gather my composure, taking a deep breath before standing up. I bite my lip and continue, taking shampoo and running my fingers through my (h/c) hair.

I just need to accept it.

There's no changing the past. I am alive.

I still stand, three years after losing everything. I'm still (y/n) (l/n).

I doubt that normalcy is an option at this point, but maybe I can become a new kind of normal.

I gently wash out my hair, taking conditioner and putting it through the tips. As I do, I step away from the water for a brief moment, the cool air rushing around me as I do.

Hm...it's colder than before. Might need to dress warmer when I get out.

I rinse my hair, letting my troubles wash down the drain as I stay with my stark loneliness. The water drains in a spiral, feeling almost hypnotic.

Stepping out, I wrap a plush towel around me tightly, catching my footing and gently stepping out onto a plush rug next to the tub. I make a small sound, stepping forward and looking into the misty window with a blank face.