PROLOGUE (Present Time)
This story starts off very strong. Read at your own risk. DO NOT read if you're easily triggered, or gruesome descriptions/thoughts bother you. I really don't want to be flagged because you did something you knew wasn't a good idea. Thank you. I can't stress this enough. But this FF is very not okay. This part contains: suicide, self harm.
Ahn Y/N sits in the bathroom, a cigarette in her left hand. The ash is about an inch long, and a pile is on the floor below the still lit end. She is shaking, but not too violently. She is still able to control herself to a certain degree.
Wrapped around the top of her bicep in a bandana, and it is wrapped tightly; almost cutting off the circulation to her left arm and hand. Her skin on that arm is slightly purple and is very cold.
To her right is the sink; a white sink. Mold and black mildew covers the sides. On the sink is an ashtray, a needle hanging off the side of it. Inside the needle is a foamy liquid. It was whitee and bubbly; almost as if chemicals were still mixing within it.
A few more needles were on the sink, but they were already empty. They had already been used. Besides those were a few pill capsules. They were cracked open, the white powder all over the counter and the floor. And some in the needles.
Y/N's eyes are black, purple bags are apparent under each one. They are bloodshot and glassy. Her heart rate is slow and her breathing is rigid. The sixteen-year-old girl is too far gone to know anything. She doesn't remember her own name at this very moment.
She drops the cigarette on the white tiles and she uses her right hand to grab the needle in the ashtray. She then grips it tightly as she brings it to her lap. Her mouth is open, and her breathing starts to get heavier; her eyes are hooded.
She can't keep them open. And she starts to shake uncontrollably now. The needle drops to the ground and she bends over some, her heart starting to burn. Her blood starts to turn ice cold, causing her head to snap back up.
She moans lightly, her head starting to swirl in pain as a migraine starts to build up within her. It feels as if something is hammering her head to a board with a large metal mallet. And then, just like that, she loses all control.
Her mouth starts to foam as the drugs and alcohols within her start to combust, eating away at her body. The foam is white and thick and milky as it falls from her mouth and onto her lap; instantly burning her skin.
Just like that, she falls off the toilet and to her left, landing in her tub with a large thunk echoing through the small bathroom. Her head smashed against the side farthest from her, causing her body to crumple within the small diameter of the tub.
Her legs start to shake, as they're outside the tub. She is bent across the edge of the tub, her pelvis on the edge, her chest on the tub, and her face smashed against the side; foam still coming from her mouth, even more so now.
The shaking doesn't stop. Nor the convulsing. She starts seizuring. Shaking uncontrollably, her legs hit the sink, knocking the ashtray to the ground along with needles and powder from pills.
Her left arm is even more purple and cold now. And her eyes are turning milky white but they are glowing red. She is pale now, far from her natural skin color. The sixteen-year-old girl had succeeded in what she wanted to do. She had reached her goal.
She had killed herself.