Warning: This chapter consists of self-harm related content, and may be triggering. If you can't handle these types of topics, feel free to skip this reading.
Delia
A dream? I thought to myself as my eyes slowly blinked at my small television ahead of me, sitting atop a wooden stand. A dream that felt... somehow so impossibly real?
I should've been happy that it was just my mind fooling with me when I was just trying to sleep a long, peaceful snooze that was much needed for a Monday morning, but instead I cried. I bawled, realizing that my anxiety was getting so severe, it was affecting my sleep and dreams, when truly my only escape had been to shut my eyes. Now, that couldn't even serve me a getaway. I sat there definitely too long, just
over thinking, frustration and sadness tugging inside me, hopeless questions echoing throughout my head.
When was I ever going to see life in a positive meaning again?
When, would my anxiety completely go away?
Were these "when's" useless and would I never find happiness and be anxiety-free again?
I felt like all my emotions were built up inside me, and there was no way they could come out. My heart throbbing at a fast pace, I went to my top drawer for my dresser, where all my undergarments and female needs were placed neatly in a row. After a moment of searching, I snatched a razor which was a beautiful turquoise color, resembling the shade of a juicy, fresh lime.
I couldn't believe I'd do this to myself- even though I knew how my parents felt about self - harm & suicide. They felt disgusted toward it, and ever since around the age of 11, they made me promise not to ever hate my body or myself enough to harm it, or worse, put its life to an end. But right now, I did
feel like I deserved to harm myself- I did feel like if I put my life to an end, not a single soul would be phased or give a shit. Without thinking anymore depressing thoughts, I simply and bravely slid the blade harshly against my smooth skin, making a cut for each thing I hated about myself, or anything I've done wrong. It hurt at first, but eventually my skin got accustomed to the treatment it was being put through.
One, for being abnormal and constantly having anxiety.
Two, for being fat.
Three, for being ugly.
Four, Five, Six for being too unworthy for Shawn.
Seven, for no friends.
Eight- for all my teachers to hate me.
In the end, I managed to have a grand total of ten, bleeding cuts lined a top one another on my forearm. By now my arm was full on stinging, causing me to wince slightly here and there. After a minute or so, my arm felt as if it went completely numb- to the awful point where I couldn't feel it or even move it. Of course, this caused me to panic which made me overall even more frustrated then I was before. So what did I stupidly decided to do?
Make five more fresh cuts along my arm.
I suddenly became dizzy and nauseous, closing my eyes tightly, my back still pressing against the cool wall. After a few minutes where I felt like I was seriously going to pass out, my door opened. Without a knock, or even a polite, less disturbing "Can I come in?" Nope, not even that. To my horror, in the doorway, stood my mother.
"Chelsea, Shawn is h-" my mom had been about to say, but was interrupted by me, looking probably lifeless against the wall, my arm probably covered in blood.
Why hadn't I locked the door?
"Oh my God!" she screamed, running toward me and lifting my arm that I destructed from the floor.
A few moments later, I heard footsteps quickly approaching the stairs.
No... NO. In the beginning did she say Shawn was here? Before I could think on, Shawn was already standing a few inches behind my mother. I expected him to yell like mom had, be beyond ticked off that I'd seriously been thinking of doing something so harmful to myself, even though I just did it without thinking. But all he did was stay where he was, frozen. He put his palm to his forehead, his face slowly beginning to scrunch. Just seeing it do so, made my heart chip into pieces. And finally, water filling his eyes, he cried. Not the soft, meaningful ones, but the violent, horrifying ones- the ones that lead to an uncontrollable breakdown, which looked exactly like what Shawn was about to do. Seeing him so out of control, a look of such helplessness painted all over his face, I cried too. And they weren't the soft, meaningful ones either.
Shawn
Thank God. It had all just been some crazy dream. I blew out a sigh, focusing my eyes on the wall ahead. Wait- but what if this dream was warning me that something like this could happen to Delia, and soon? Thinking this horrifying thought made me instantly panic. What if she already does, cut herself and its just nobody knows?
After a few minutes of thinking, I threw myself off my bed. I needed to take Delia out for breakfast today. Maybe that would cheer her day up if she was having a bad one, so far. I eyed my digital clock on my nightstand, glad to see it was around 10:00. She had to be up by now? I didn't have her number, but I knew where she lived. Well, I guess it's a surprise!
After taking a brief shower, getting dressed, and trying to make my hair look decent, I grabbed my phone from my bed and hurried downstairs. There in the kitchen, was my mom, making one of my favorite breakfasts- blueberry pancakes and the fluffiest scrambled egg you'd ever witnessed in my mouth. But today, it was all about Del.
"Well someone is up and about early." she commented, stirring around the half - cooked, half -raw eggs in a black pan.
"Yep. I'm going to take a friend out to breakfast." I replied, shoving on my shoes.
"Ooh, one of the guys?" she asked curiously, her eyebrows raised.
With hesitation, I sighed "I'll tell you how it goes. Later, Mom."
"Later sweets... Enjoy?" she said, still probably curious about who I was going with.
"Thanks!" I called, already running down our driveway and jumping in my mom's car.
Ding dong. I popped a piece of mint gum in my mouth, when the tall, white door opened slightly. There stood what looked just like Delia, except maybe 30 years older.
"Oh... Good morning. You look very familiar?" she questioned me with a small smile. She was dressed in a pair of dark skinny jeans, and an orange breezy, long sleeved top. Her hair was slicked back in a small bun atop her head.
"Hello, Mrs. Cook. I know Delia from school, but you probably saw me doing the gifts with her Sunday."
"Oh, excuse me! Yes, yes, you're .. .Shawn Mendes?"
"You got it."
"Very nice to see you again Shawn. Should I tell Delia you're waiting downstairs?"
"Yes, please. I was going to take her out to get breakfast. I didn't know her phone number, so I couldn't call her in advance... I apologize for the late notice."
"Oh, that's fine. And that's very sweet of you Shawn... She's been so down lately, I'm sure this will cheer her up."
My heart caught in my throat at the words She's been so down. The last four words I'd ever want to hear. After observing the living room for a bit, noticing every tiny detail on their white, cushioned sofa and looking at the inspirational quotes in maroon frames scattered here and there, I heard someone scream. It sounded more like Mrs. Cook, since I could hear it clearer, and less off into to the distance, where Delia was probably in her room. Instantly, I ran up the stairs, my knees shaking with the anxiety of what could be wrong. I slowly appeared behind Mrs. Cook, to see my worst nightmare. It was pretty close to the extremely unpleasant dream I'd woken up to this morning. Delia's arm was severely bleeding, and I could see a few scratches here and there that weren't completely oozing. A green razor looked like it has been thrown by her side. Her back was up against the wall, and she was still in what looked like pajamas which were black leggings and a white and loose cropped shirt that read "But First, Coffee" in bold black lettering. Her hair was up in a messy bun, her eyes halfway closed. She looked weak, lifeless- on the verge of being unconscious. Seeing this, seeing her.... I could feel my eyes beginning to fill up. They did, quite fast. I tried to turn my head but it was too late; I was already crying- uncontrollably. Loud, wobbly and horrified gasps with a mixture of tears.
I was too late. I hadn't saved Delia on time. It was all my fault she was doing this. If only- God, I suck.
It seemed like only a single moment later that the ambulance was speeding off. I watched it, catching a glimpse of Mrs. Cook's bun, not being able to see anything of Delia.
"Only family members can ride with her." one of the guys from the ambulance truck had firmly told me.
I wanted to scream, wanted to breakdown right there, the sight of the truck zooming down the road, the sirens deafening my senses of hearing, the awful thought of Delia not being able to recover from the amount of blood she lost. But I didn't. I just walked home, still being able to feel the stains on my cheeks leftover from crying. I was too broken, too full of despair, that I didn't even bother to wipe at them.
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Hello, my lil' marshmallows! I do mean it when I mention I'm sorry for my severe lack of updating! My laptop's screen recently "internally cracked" according to the techie dudes at Best Buy, and I'm going to need a new one. Unfortunately, it might be awhile until that happens, so I have to update chapters either on my
phone (which I am currently doing) or my iPad. It's a bit more difficult to create new content on my iPad because A. It's generation is #1, and B. It doesn't consist of the options like making your font bold, italic, or underlining it. So getting to the the ultimate point, yes it'll be harder to update more often, but ima try my best to give my marshmallows as much chapters as possible ❤️ Not to mention school is coming up for me in less than two weeks so I'm most likely going to have less time to update. Yet again, I'm going to try and put in more effort. BTW feel free to comment your opinion about this fanfic, fav && send me covers! I'd love to know what you guyz are thinking about this ((: follow me on Insta && Twitter if you'd like!
INSTA: (changed) @mota.mendez
TWITTER: @weloveyouushawn
Can we get "No Worries to 1K? Challenge accepted? 😉
-Chels 💕