called it since grade school

Scaredy Cat - Leonard McCoy

Summary: Power goes out on the Enterprise while you’re in a much dreaded physical. You’re afraid of a lot of things, including the dark. But Bones is there for you. (requested by @outside-the-government)

Warnings: Language

A/N: first bones fic in ages whooooo


Even the nurse that retrieved you saw it. The paled knuckles, the colorless lips, the thin sheen of sweat. You were sure she could hear it, too. The labored and elongated breaths, the soft words of encouragement you gave yourself, the swish of your red uniform as you constantly adjusted the fabric which had never felt so tight.

You stayed a few steps behind her, unable to return the smiles passing physicians and nurses sent you in greeting. You nodded when she said something to you, something you didn’t catch beyond a hum, and entered the exam room as soon as the door swished open.

You shut your eyes as you as you stepped in, the lights seemingly brighter in the small room than the other parts of the medbay. You jumped at the sound of the door hissing shut, your eyes snapping open.

“You all right there, sweetheart? Lookin’ a little pale.”

You shook your head, placing your hand on Leonard’s shoulder as he approached you, his head tilted. You met his deep hazel eyes and let a breath leave your parted lips. “You know this stuff freaks me out. Doctors, and what not.”

“Just a physical,” he told you, his eyes not wavering from you even when you found it difficult to keep your gaze steady. “No hypos today.”

You managed a smile at that. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart,” he smiled back. He motioned to the flat biobed before facing the counter and washing his hands. “Strange two of the only people I can tolerate on this floatin’ metal disease incubator are terrified of doctors.”

You hopped onto the bed and gripped the edge of it with all your might, letting out a deep exhale. You watched the blue uniform wrinkle and stretch with his every movement, you tried to concentrate on that. “Yeah, it’s a little ironic.”

He hummed as he faced you again, one of his signature scowls over his lips— it was a neutral scowl, though, not one of particular discontent. “And you’d think after my lifelong search for irony, I’d be a li’l more satisfied ‘bout things turnin’ out this way.”

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semi-fic: Persona AU

This is a long post, saddle up for some cool stuff.

@dirkar and I have terrible ideas. By which I mean we have fucking incredible ideas. This is one of my favorite brainstorms I’ve ever been part of. Sadly, the both of us are too busy to turn this from roadmap into full fic, but also think it’d be a goddamn shame not to share what we have. Even though this is not a full traditional “fic”, I fucking love it.

Because what we have is a radical Persona AU, starring our babes, the Alphas.

This AU mixes elements of both P3 and P4.

  • The Midnight Channel exists.
  • But so do Evokers, the summoning tool from P3. Each Alpha has a personalized weapon they use as their Evoker:
    • Jane wields a very sharp fork with long tings. To summon her persona, she jams the tings into her arm.
    • Dirk has a sword, natch. To summon his persona, he inserts the blade into his chest, then whips it outward, Utena-style.
    • Roxy has bladed knuckles. To summon her persona, she flips them in her grip and slams the knuckles into her ribs like a deadly defibrillator.
    • Jake, of course, has a standard P3 Evoker in the shape of a gun. To summon his persona, he fires it at his temple.

Our setting for this story is quiet suburbia, where weird folktales like the Midnight Channel are pervasive. See, the story goes if you look into your TV at midnight on a rainy night, you will see your true love. The truth of what’s on the Midnight Channel is a little more sinister. It broadcasts a person, who then vanishes into the world of the TV, where they are trapped. They are held prisoner by their Shadow, the manifestation of their most shameful desires and fears.

SO THIS HAPPENS TO THE ALPHA KIDS OBVIOUSLY.

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“...Right In.”

Requested by an anon. A cutie. 

Originally posted by omsee

The only way the guys could desribe the two of you was, made for each other. You’d fight one day and flirt the next. All of them were tired of you two playing like you weren’t at all in love each other. Everyone could tell. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. Even people you guys didn’t know could tell just by looking at the two of you.

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Superpowers Not Required

September, 1986

El had been finding the notes for about a month now, roughly since her sophomore year had begun; crammed in her locker, sticking out between pages of her Earth Systems textbook, shoved into the pocket of her jeans when she pulled them out after gym class.

Should’ve guessed Frog Face Wheeler would be the only one to try dating you.

Of course Mike Wheeler would like you. You look like a boy and he’s a queer.

Your boyfriend is a fag, Hopper.

This one was in her regular locker, almost hidden by her stacks of books. She willed herself not to read the scribbled notes but found her fingers peeling the lined paper open anyway, eyes tripping over the loopy purple-inked handwriting. The words inside made her stomach crawl into her throat.

Does Mike moan math equations when you two are making out? Or just the names of boys?

The slip of paper was reduced to shreds within moments, the remnants of the purple letters floating to the bottom of the nearest trashcan. Eleven blinked back hot tears and swallowed, straightening her jacket in determination. She’d been warned about mean kids at school, had seen the way bullies tormented Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Will relentlessly. She’d broken an arm and even a few fingers but the boys told her, some with begrudging reluctance, that she had to stop. The last thing Eleven needed was another crazed police report with her name on it. Even if Hopper would throw it out, they couldn’t manage the risk of any extra attention on the mysterious girl with questionable legal documentations fabricating her birthday and even her given name.

“Hiya, El!” It was Dustin’s voice. Eleven turned and was met with her best friends bounding down the hallway toward her. She forgot about the sparkly purple ink for a second before her brown eyes fell on Mike, his eager smile making her chest feel prickly and hot.

“Hi,” he said warmly, his fingers brushing her wrist before he blushed and shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets. Eleven threw a look at the trashcan where the note lay in its grave. Mike smiled naively at her and guilt blackened the girl’s veins.

“Friends tell each other everything,” Will had told her once. The notion had filled her with glittery joy. She didn’t talk much still, but not much happened to her either, so there wasn’t a whole lot to tell her friends. And she loved that—the normalcy that now filled up most of her normal, fifteen-year-old life.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” That was Mike. His words had made her heartbeat flutter in her ears and her kiss float to the boy’s freckled cheek, right under his eye. But now the same memory filled her with slimy dread. Why did she feel such intense guilt about hiding the notes from Mike? She was protecting him, El reminded herself over and over.

She slipped a smile onto her lips, praying the expression was convincing enough to go without question. Taking Mike’s excited chatter about a new campaign that he was nearly finished with as a sign that her acting was adequate, El fell into the group’s quick rhythm, offering a comment every now and then. But it never took long before the goopy purple ink came back to the front of her mind.

They were coming up on El’s house when Mike murmured it to her: “Is everything okay, El?”

Her eyes flickered to his and she offered a short nod. A smile pushed her lips upward and she nodded again, more confidently. “Everything’s great! I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

Mike watched her carefully before grinning again, stepping backward off the curb in front of the Hopper house. “I’ll call you after dinner, okay?”

Eleven chewed the inside of her lip and nodded a third time. “Okay.”

The telephone rang at 7:04. El let it ring. Then she let it ring again. After a third time, the calls stopped.

**

“Why didn’t you pick up the phone last night?” Mike asked shyly as the boys broke off to head to class and he fumbled with the lock on his metal locker. “I called, like, twice.”

“My dad wouldn’t let me talk—homework wasn’t finished,” she lied coolly. Eleven smirked to herself, kicking at the school tile as Mike fished out his textbooks. “And you called three times, actually.”

Mike rolled his eyes at the blood he knew must have rushed to his ears and smiled at Eleven gently. His eyes flicked from hers and landed on something behind her. Eyebrow perked up, El turned to look at what he was staring at. “Lorelei Clark just put something in your locker, I think.” Eleven gulped and found the girl in her gaze, hot rage boiling in her stomach and toes. “Are you going to see what it is?” Mike asked innocently.

Eleven shook her head urgently, pulling on his elbow, trying to coax him away and off to first period. But Mike stood solid and started walking instead to El’s locker. “Let’s see what it is, El.” Eleven pulled harder on his elbow and he looked at her, confused and worried all at once. “What is it? Why won’t you see what she put in your locker?”

“We’re going to be late to class, Mike!” Eleven lied again sharply, willing her voice to stay even and light.

He was unconvinced and reached for the lock fastened to her locker, spinning in the code with ease. Mike knew her combination better than his own; he’d leave full-size skittle packages in there and sometimes even new gel pens. “Mike, don’t,” El cried, ripping the folded note he picked up from his fingers.

“El?” He looked down at her, pleading in his deep brown-black eyes.

She choked on a reply as he took the paper back calmly and opened it up.

El wouldn’t watch him read whatever purple-inked horrible things were undoubtedly scrawled on the slip of ripped notebook paper. She couldn’t. Eleven flipped around and found the back of Lorelei Clark’s head instead, a light blonde ponytail bobbing up and down.

“Hey!” Eleven wasn’t even processing the words spilling from her hateful mouth. “Lorelei!”

Lorelei paused and turned around, her flank of friends turning with her. Their snickering smiles stilled, looks of shock muting their laughter. They had never been caught.

“You’ve been writing the notes?” Eleven surprised herself with the confidence her voice suddenly adopted, her body rooted in place and her fists clenched at her sides.

Lorelei frowned and glanced at her miniature army of friends. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s bullshit.” Lorelei’s friends and the other now-silent high school students in the hallway gasped and muttered to one another. El inwardly grimaced at the sharp language that had just rolled off her tongue, courtesy of Dustin and Lucas’ example (and even her father’s occasional slip-up), but then remembered Mike, who stood somewhere behind her and had just read the new note. She concluded that the cuss word could be permitted for her current circumstances. She rolled her shoulders back and let her eyes fall into a purely seething glare. Lorelei Clark felt the hairs on her arms raise up. “I’m sure if we opened your backpack right now, I’d find a purple pen in there, right?” El asked.

Eleven walked toward the girl until there was only twelve inches separating them. Lorelei Clark was tall but El didn’t mind looking up a little. “Mean girls only bully people because they’re insecure.”

“Shut up, you little freak,” Lorelei spat, suddenly red in the face. The girls surrounding her gave each other knowing looks, eyebrows raised and eyes widened and whispers about Lorelei lacing the air. Lorelei looked at the them and stamped her foot, humiliation burning at her skin. “It’s not my fault your boyfriend Wheeler likes boys,” she hissed, looking El up and down before snickering and shoving the girl into another teenage bystander to the side. “And it isn’t my fault you fit his little gay fantasies almost perfectly,” Lorelei added, shoving El hard again, this time sending her nose straight into a boy’s shoulder. El winced and lifted a finger to her nose. It came away with blood.

“El!” She felt tears spring to her eyes at the sound of Mike’s voice. He pushed people out of the way and came to her, lifting her jaw with his fingertips and inspecting her nose gently, concern flooding his eyes.

“Oh, stay out of it, you pathetic little queer—”

They told her she couldn’t use her powers, but regular kids punched each other all the time. El whirred around and swung her fist at Lorelei’s glossy face.

El and Lorelei were both sent home from school that day for fighting, El with aching knuckles and Lorelei with an ugly blackening bruise blossoming along her jaw. Mike skipped class even though he knew he’d have a lot of explaining to do to Karen Wheeler. He sat against the wall outside with El, waiting for Hop to pull up in his squad car to escort Eleven home.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Eleven stared at the pavement and touched her swollen fingers timidly. “I was trying to protect you.”

Mike’s eyes lingered on her hands as she examined her bones curiously. He smiled disjointedly and shook out his hair in frustration. “I’ve been called names since grade school, El. It’s nothing new. You didn’t have to keep it all a secret,” he hesitated, “for me.”

El forced her eyes up, but only to Mike’s nose. That seemed to be her current limit. “Yes I did. One secret to stop you from getting one more bad memory. That’s worth it.”

Eleven felt Mike’s lips on her own before she saw the flash of his pale skin or dark hair. His kiss was hard and then he pulled away, face hot and blood-colored. El was suddenly okay with seeing that color again.

A honk broke up her thoughts. Her eyes shot up, where she found a fuming Hopper behind the front wheel on his police car.

“You can tell me anything, El. Just because you’re a superhero doesn’t mean you have to hide things from me, okay?”

She glanced backward and offered the boy who was still sitting up against the wall of the high school the prettiest smile she’d ever given anyone. “Okay, Mike.” It utterly blew Mike’s mind that Lorelei could ever say El looked remotely anything like a boy. Sure, Eleven skipped makeup and left her wavy, short hair natural but Mike was sure she was the most girl thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

“I’ll call you after dinner!”

“I’ll pick up!”

She could hear Mike’s low laughter when she pulled on the passenger-side door. It was locked. Jim rolled the window down. “Starting fights now?” He stared at her from behind his sunglasses, nodding his head to the backseat where they detained the people they arrested and convicts going to court. “You gonna pull a stunt like that,” he lowered his sunglasses menacingly at the girl.

“You can sit in the back.”

**

El answered the phone on the first ring at 7:02 so Hop wouldn’t be quick enough to catch it.

By 7:56, El knew her dad would be calling her into the living room for ice cream and Magnum, P.I. any second. (It was a weekly ritual of theirs that Jim had threatened to revoke that night for her fighting antics. He’d forgiven the girl quite quickly, however, so their Mint-Chocolate-Chip-Magnum night would still be in full-swing.)

“Hey, wait, before you go,” Mike’s trailing voice kept El’s ear on the phone. “Promise me you’ll tell me if you find any more notes, okay? Or if anyone else is mean to you.”

El snorted into the receiver, a light embarrassed pink tinting her neck at Mike’s adamant protectiveness. Even if she really liked it.

“Promise?” He repeated.

She sighed softly, a genuine smile lighting her face. “Promise.”

youtube

On April 19, 1999, a day before the massacre, Dylan Klebold, Dustin Gorton, a junior, and Eric Jackson, a senior, filmed a “Breakfast” video called “American Dream” for a school project since Dylan was concerned about his grades. Jackson filmed the video and actually had it in possession in his backpack when the massacre began at Columbine.The video was filmed in Gorton’s 1972 Chevrolet Chevelle at the Burger King at 6797 W Ottawa Ave, Littleton, CO 80128.

week one: rinse your body of his touch. drown yourself in hot water from the shower, choke on the steam that rises from your red, soaking flesh. scrub yourself raw, until you have shed every last skin cell that could have been touched by his fingertips.

week two: take his jacket and drench it in gasoline. light fire to it in the middle of the night, let the smoke swirl in your lungs. inhale, exhale, the smell of him is leaving. leave the burnt remains on his doorstep.

week three: get drunk. turn off your phone, so you won’t be able to call him. leave it the other room. watch sit-coms and soap operas until 4 in the morning. laugh and cry until you throw up. it won’t be because of him.

week four: hold the necklace he bought you close to your chest. remember. you can remember the good so long as you do not forget the bad. break the clasp with a hammer and place it back in its velvet box.

week five: buy yourself a new dress. put it on and call the boy that’s been chasing you since grade school. ask him if he wants to go out. he’ll say yes. take him to dinner and hold his hand, but do not kiss. adjust. adjust slowly, carefully.

week six: call him. when he picks up, ask him how he’s doing. when he says he’s doing fine, tell him you’re glad. when he asks why, tell him you were just checking and hang up without a goodbye. he will call back that night, and the next, and the next. but he already lost you, and you are okay.

—  “rule #1: never cry over a fuckboy” or “how to get over someone in a month” // -c.h.
Recover ( Stiles Stilinski)

Stiles x Reader

Y/N - Your name ; Y/L/N - Your last name

Summary( Requested): Anon: Could you do one where Stiles is in Eichenhouse and he meets Y/N there and gets to know her…^^

Warning: depression(!!), self harm(!!)

A/N: I cried while writing this. I hope you like it:)  This account does not support any kind of disorder or depression! If you suffer form any kind of disorder, depression or bullying  don’t hesitate and talk to me! Sometimes talking helps a lot.  xx Mira

GIF is NOT mine.

-

Stiles P.o.v.

The sound of keys outside my room make me jump awake. It must be eight o’clock in the morning, because they unlock our doors for breakfast everyday at the same time.

“Stilinski, get up! Do I have to remind you what to do? No? Good.”, Schrader says and exits my room again.

“Good morning to you too.”, I mumble sarcastically and stretch myself.

Everyday it was the same procedure: breakfast, taking my medicine and going to the psycologist to get told that everything is going to get better. From eleven to twelve o’clock we are allowed to walk freely within the Eichen house area.

I usually just stroll around in the small park and sit on one of the benches and watch birds as they fly over me.Sometimes I take some of the bread from breakfast with me and feed it to them.

As I walk towards a bench I see a girl in a white clinic dress. She looks pretty ill with her pale skin and long dark hair and it reminds me of some horror movie Scott forced me to watch with him one day.

“Uhm hey.”, I say while I look down on her. No reply.

“Do you mind if I sit down?”, still  no answer so I take it as a yes.

“I’m Stiles, by the way”, I say with a smile but don’t expect her to answer.

Minutes go by and all I do is look at the ground and wonder what my friends are doing right now.

“Y/N.”, I can barely hear her.

“What?”

“My name is Y/N.”, the girl says quietly while turning her head to face me.

“Hey Y/N. That’s a beautiful name.”, I can see that her cheeks turn pink.

“Th-Thank you. Yours is quiet-”

“Weird? Yeah I know I get that a lot.”, I say.

“I wanted to say special.”, Y/N disagrees.

“Oh, thank you.”, I smile and then there is a moment of silence between us.

“Since when are you here?”, I break the silence.

“I just got here a week ago.”, she answers.

“May I ask you why?”, she opens her mouth but closes it immediatly, like she has to think about it.

“Uhm… I-I failed at the attempt of suicide.“, Y/N says nervous.

I try not to show too much of a expression on my face, but I feel so sorry for her and it kind of reminds me of my mother.

“I don’t want to ask why, because I don’t know whether or not you want to talk about it but if you feel bad or something, you can always- uh- always come to me. Okay?”, I offer.

“Thanks Stiles, I will keep it in mind.”

-

“I can’t believe you did that.”, Y/N laughs out loud.

“ I mean my best friend was hurt and there were four more hours of sitting in a warm bus with several people. Making a travel-sick person vomit all over the place was the easiest way to get out of there. You may call me genius”, I joke.

Y/N and I got really close since our first talk on the bench, two weeks ago. We sit together at breakfast, lunch and supper and whenever we have some spare time you will find us in the park together. She’s got such a beautful mind and I am amazed by the way she sees things.

Y/N get’s bullied at her school, since eighth grade. They call her fat, so she stopped eating, they cyber bullied her and even beat her up often. She got depressed and cutted herself for a long time. Y/N told me that she already tried to kill herself twice but everytime she thought she finally did, her parents found their daughter.

It makes me sick how people can be that mean to each other. This world is so full of hate, that somebody would rather die, than just be who they are.

“How are you feeling today?”, I ask her.

“Actually, Stiles, I feel great today.”, she smiles.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“And guess what.”, she teases.

“What?”

“I get out this Friday!”

“No way! But that is like two days from now!”, I say excited, although I’m sad that she is leaving. What am I supposed to do when she is gone?

“Yeah I know. Do you know when you’re allowed to go?”, Y/N asks.

“Hm, I don’t know. They said  maybe next Thursday, but I’m not so sure.”, I scratch my neck.

“I’m going to miss you, to be honest.”, she says while blushing.

“I’m going to miss you too Y/N.”

And for the first time we hug. It’s a long one and I feel so comfortable hugging her.

-

“Here is my number, so you can call me, when I’m out of here.”, I hand her a small paper.

“Thank you Stiles, so much.”, she says while hugging me. I break away.

“Don’t forget: Whenever you need me just call me.”

“I know, you told me a thousand times.”, Y/N sighs and I chuckle.

“So this is Goodbye, huh?”

“No, I’d like to say “See you” instead of Goodbye, because saying Goodbye sounds so final. ”

“Promise me, that we will see each other again.”, I want to make sure.

“I promise”, she smiles.

I embrace her again but as we get closer we both press our lips together. Although it lasts just for a few seconds I feel butterflies inside my stomach.

“Okay, now we really have to meet again.”, I laugh and she nods.

As I watch her walk away I realise that I am on my own again now and knowing that I will meet her again, makes me even more impatient.

-

“Buddy!”, Scott yells as I walk through the gate of Eichen house.

“How are you son?”, my dad asks and patts me on my shoulder. I reply by saying that I am better.

On our way home I try to switch on my phone to see if Y/N messaged me, but unfortunately my battery died, because I must have forgottten to switch it off when I got into Eichen house. Damn it.

Dad cooked dinner and as we eat, he literally forces me to tell him everything I went through during the past few weeks.

I still can’t believe that I am finally out, although my Insomnia didn’t get better.

“I am glad that you are better, Stiles. The house was so quiet without you.”

“I am glad too, dad. Do you mind if I check on my phone?”

“Usually I would say yes, but since you were away for so long without any chance to talk to your friends, I guess I don’t mind.”, he allows me and I thank him.

I walk to my charged phone and as I open my messages I see nine missed texts from Y/N. My smile grows at the sight of her first message.

Y/N: Hey Stiles,this is Y/N. I’m home now. Yay :)) I really hope that this is your correct number and that I’m not texting a stranger now. Anyways I hope u r alright :) See ya. x Y/N.

I chuckle and I have to admit that my heart beats a bit faster than normal.

She sended me a text everyday. How cute is that?

Message from Wednesday 7:48 pm :

Y/N: Hey Stiles, my parents just told me that I have to go to school tomorrow, so I don’t miss any more classes. I can’t believe it. I can’t go back to school. I get anxiety attacks when I start to think about all the people there. God, how I wish that you would be here. You really made me feel better about everything and I thought I could handle it, but unfortunately I can’t. Sorry for spamming you. Hopefully you will be out next Thursday :). See ya x Y/N.

Are they crazy? I am so sorry for her. What kind of parents are they? I mean yeah she has to go to school but definetely not to the same one!

On Friday she said that she feels even more observed by the others than before.

Monday was horrible for her because people started to call her out during classes.

On Tuesday students told her that she was too dumb to kill herself properly. She admitted that she is bad again and started to cut herself because she couldn’t take it.

A tear rolls down my cheeks. She does not deserve this! Y/N the kindest person I know. Y/N the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. It breaks my heart.

Just as I wanted to answer her I get another message.

Thursday 9:13 pm :

Hey Stiles, it’s me again. I can’t take it no more. They started all over again. I didn’t want to text you today, at first, but you deserve a proper farewell. I wanted to thank you for everything you said and did. You made me feel special and important. I’m sorry for leaving, but I don’t see any reason in living. I wanted to fight. I wanted to fight for you, to show you that I can, but I guess I can’t. They finally won. It’s not “See you” this time, this means Goodbye Stiles. Thanks for everything.  Love, Y/N.

My heart just broke into million pieces. A waterfall is now running down my face. All I can think about is Y/N. This can’t be it. NO! I have to find her, like right now, but how? I don’t even know her adress! DAD!

“Dad! Dad!”, I yell through the whole house.

“Stiles? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”, he runs to me with a worried expression on his face.

“I am but Y/N is not. Dad you have to help me.”, I say way too fast.

“Y/N is the girl you told me about, right?”, he asks and I nod.

“She wants to kill herself. I have to find her, but I don’t know where she lives.”

“Do you know her last name?”

“Yes, it’s Y/L/N. Why?”

He takes out his phone.

“Haigh? Coud you please search for the exact address of Y/N Y/L/N.”

The quiet inbetween makes me even more uncomfortable.

“Okay. Are you sure? Thank you.”, he writes down a street and number.

“Let’s go.”, he says and we both run out of the house and jump into the car.

On our way to her house my, Dad calls the ambulance.

-

We finally arrive and I run as fast I can to the door. I can see people through the window and ring the bell more than once.

“Uhm Excuse me? Who do you think you-”, a woman answers the door.

“I am indeed sorry Misses Y/L/N, but your daughter is upstairs and tries to kill herself, if she haven’t done it yet.”, her mouth fell open and I don’t hestitate to sprint the stairs all the way up. Fuck, where is her room?

After finding the bathroom, her brother’s room and another bathroom I finally find her’s. Unfortunately it’s locked. I break it open with my foot, kind of impressed by the strength.

I will never forget the sight of her lying there on the soaked carpet, covered in blood. I kneel down next to her body and try to find a pulse on her wrist. Nothing. I start to reanimate the way I have learned during first aid class.

“Don’t do this to me Y/N! Come on! Don’t die on me. Damn it Y/N please wake up! I can’t lose you!”, I cry out loud.

After several minutes of me trying to get her back to life the paramedics enter the room. They tell me to leave her body but I refuse.

“Time of death: probably half an hour ago so circa 9:30 pm.”, the man says.

“You can’t do this!”, I yell at Y/N’s dead body and take her head into my hands. Tears fall down on her face.

I don’t know if I ever recover from this.