Warning - Drug abuse, mental health problems, mentions of suicide.
Life had been cruel to you, especially recently. It had been a long string of horrible events, and you felt alone. You'd felt alone for the longest time. You had friends, but you'd never felt like you could reach out to them. So, today you decided to skip class again. You sat alone out of the football field, and whilst as a kid you'd sworn you'd never do drugs, you felt like you had no other choice, your head was a complete mess and you needed relief. So, you lit up a joint, and smoked until you were completely off your head. You would've tried cocaine, but getting hold of that was a hell of a lot harder. Whilst laying down on the grass, the high beginning to wear off, you heard footsteps behind you. They sat down next to you.
"Hey." A feminine voice greeted you.
"Hm, hey.." You responded.
"So much for being a diligent student, huh?" They teased.
"Who cares?" You retaliated.
"You used to." They muttered.
You sat up, and turned to see Heather Chandler sat beside you, an old friend and crush of yours.
"Yeah, well, time changes things." You remarked.
"What you smoking?" She asked, concerned.
"What's it smell like to you?" You retorted.
"Weed." She commented.
"Correct." You congratulated her sarcastically.
"So much for never doing drugs, thought you said you never would?" She questioned.
"Yeah, I said a lot of things as a kid, I was happy. I'm just so tired of my own mind, Heather. Nothing feels right, my own head is running at fifty miles an hour. I just can't ever seem to get any peace anymore, not even in my own head.." You explained, spilling your thoughts out, too high to put up walls.
"I'm sorry, that you had to go through this alone. I know what it's like, to wish you could just get your own mind to shut up. I'm a fucking mess sometimes." She empathised with you.
"Yeah, like a perfect girl like you's got issues." You spat back.
"You'd never say something like that to someone, you're not you when you're like this." She observed, frowning sadly.
"Isn't that just the point?" You uttered.
"Come on, you're not staying here off your head. You're going home." She demanded.
"Why? What's the point?" You asked.
"Because I miss the old you, and you're killing yourself slowly." She answered sadly.
"I miss you, Heather, we used to be real close." You reminisced.
"Yeah, then you refused to ask for help when you were upset, and now you're trying drugs. You're fucking stupid sometimes, you know that?" She raised her voice a little, getting upset.
"I know, I'm sorry, I just feel weak asking for help." You apologised genuinely, tearing up a little.
"Well, you're not asking, I'm giving you it." She commanded.
"Thanks." You smiled sadly at her.
"I'll never let you go, remember that." She pulled you up by the hand, and a note fell out of your pocket. You tried to pick it up quickly, but Heather saw it.
"What's that?" She asked, concerned.
"Hm? Nothing." You tried to cover it up, knowing how upset she'd get.
"Oh, just give it here." She snatched it out of your hand, "Fuck. You weren't coming out here to smoke your problems away, you were trying to build up the courage to kill yourself, weren't you?!" She shouted, beginning to cry.
"Fine! I was! Nobody ever wants to listen to me! Nobody cares, I could die and nobody would remember!" You screamed at her, tears streaming from your eyes.
"I would! You know I love you!" She confessed.
"What?" You questioned, in disbelief.
"I love you, dumbass!" She repeated and kissed you roughly.
"I love you too.." You uttered out, still shocked.
"Good, now, let's get you home before you pass out or something." She smiled softly at you.
She helped you walk home and laid you down in your bed. She then went to talk to your parents and you fell asleep.
A few hours later, you woke up in your bed, Heather by your side.
"Morning sleepyhead." She teased.
"Morning.. Thanks for bringing me home, I owe you one." You groaned.
"Well, I need you to do me a favour." She responded.
"What?" You questioned curiously.
"I told your parents about what's going on, and as the favour, I want you to go to therapy." She explained.
"O-Okay, I guess I can try." You answered.
"Thank you." She smiled at you and squeezed your hand softly.
"Wanna watch a movie?" You asked.
"Sure, which one?" She inquired.
"Beetlejuice?" You suggested.
"Can't you pick anything else?" She complained.
"Nope." You stood your ground stubbornly.
"Ughh, fine, only for you, dork." She retorted.
"Yay! You know I'm your favourite dork." You teased.
"Yes, yes you are." She said, kissing your cheek and getting up to get the movie.
A/N - I hope this wasn't too bad, I just felt like writing something angsty, the next one will be fluffy, I promise :)