Chapter Text
youre in the bathroom, this same bathroom you remember your dad, and max, and rachel all standing in during different parts of your life
its hard to reconcile with everything in your life, how sharp of a turn into fucked up you had.
everything was pretty good, you had a solid family unit and a best friend who got you in a way you fear you wont ever have again- and now theyre dead or gone or too grief stricken to see exactly how much help you need.
then, you thought you had a chance. a way to pull yourself out of the hole the universe chucked you into. but now its been two weeks since rachel went missing- two weeks of you being totally, completely, alone.
you throw the gun up in the air again, letting it drop just a little further than you need to before catching it
you decide to put the gun down
its hard, it feels impossible to take your hands off of the thing, your ticket into a better future- but you manage. and then youre pulling out the box of blades you keep hidden in the back of the cupboard under your sink, where your step douche wont go looking in fear of coming across a tampon
the white of the sink contrasts beautifully with the drops of blood dripping off your wrist, it looks like art. if you had plans for the future you just might be thinking about changing out your black marker for a dark red one
but you arent really thinking about your future, youre just thinking about the drip, drip, drip, onto porcelain
you hear something, a car door closing outside in the driveway. perfect
see, youve put a Lot of thought into how this will go, how exactly you would put a bullet into your brain
itd start with cutting skin on your arm and leg, just to get that buzzy feeling in you one last time and then, right as pornstache came back in from his weekly whatever the fuck he does on tuesday afternoons, youd blow your brains out
what you did not plan for is dissociating after you cut your wrist open, so now your leg is bare. it almost makes you decide to reschedule this whole ordeal but. you cant. you just cant
itd be a whole new hell, to go back to everything after getting so close
you pull yourself out of it as you hear the front door open up, and step into the shower
you flick the safety off the gun, hands shaking, and stuff it in your mouth, a twitch of a movement and-
it is sweet, sweet nothingness from there
"chloe what the fuck was that!" david yells, running up the stairs "if i find out youre using one of my guns for some of your bull crap-" he cuts off after finding your door slightly cracked open.
when he pushes inside and doesnt find you he immediately knows youre in the bathroom
his blood runs cold, what could you have been shooting in there?
he walks, slowly like he already knows whats on the other side of the door, to the bathroom and knocks
he waits patiently for about ten second before he barges right into the bathroom, seeing the blood and the blades and the gun and feeling so, so terrible there isnt anywhere to put it