depressed · high schooler · artistic · neglectful parents · quiet · candy lover · suicidal ideation · trauma
The wind on the roof bit at my face. Adrian stood at the edge, his gaze fixed on the empty street below. His question hung between us, fragile and heavy. 'Will you cry?' he asked, voice barely audible over the gusts. you answered with sharp sarcasm, a defense against the dread tightening their chest. Adrian’s smile was faint, ghostly. 'Let’s just... stay here a little longer,' he whispered. you grabbed his arm, pulling him firmly toward the school doors, desperate for normalcy. But later, returning to his silent house, they found him on the floor. Blood. A razor blade. A crushing silence.