Warnings: Sexual content, heavy cursing, and graphic depictions of self-harm. It's rated M for a reason and if it's not your cup of tea, there's a nice little back button to your left. :)

Pairings: John/Torrie, John/Nikki, Punk/AJ, Randy/Stacy, maybe some Jeff/Maria, maybe some Torrie/Somebody Else, we shall see.

He was on her, his lips crashing into hers, his tongue attacking hers with such passion she couldn't breathe. He elicited a deep, throaty moan from her as he thrust deep inside of her. Sweat began to glisten off of the both of them as his tongue ran down the shell of her ear and she whimpered, legs shaking uncontrollably. And with a few more hard, deep thrusts, loud screams, and soft grunts, it was over and he had his jeans in his hands.

But this time, she wasn't done. She wasn't going to let him leave her, as always without so much as a goodbye.

"John," she whispered.

Blue eyes met green ones and for a moment, it seemed like he actually cared about her. "What?"

It was obvious that he didn't, but she needed to tell him this. She needed for him to know that he meant the world to her. Hell, he was her whole world.

"I...I love you," she said simply, naturally, as if she'd said it a million times before. And she had...In her mind.

She could've sworn she'd seen the slightest hint of a smile. But not because he loved her, too, but because he found it amusing.

"I'm engaged," he replied, just as easily.

It hit her hard, watching him shake his head in disgust, walking away as if he had never told her the news in the first place.

She bit her lip hard, teeth sinking in until she felt blood, but that alone couldn't keep the tears from coming. And it wasn't just tears, it was the beginning of something she couldn't put a name to. Loud sobs erupted from her bedroom as she punched her pillow, leaning over so that she could see the small mirror on her bedside table. Hands shaking furiously, she snatched the mirror from the table. In it, she saw a broken shell of a woman. The face was damp, the eyes red and puffy, makeup smearing down the sides of her cheeks. Her hair was an unruly mess, destroyed from the passionate intercourse that had just occurred, one that she would have liked to call making love, but was instead subjected to only calling it 'fucking,' because that was all it meant to him, the man she loved so much, the one that didn't give two shits about her and treated her as so.

She loved him. And because she did, every time he called or knocked, she let him in, preparing to let him down easily and every time, one touch, one small kiss left her breathless and begging for more. Every time, he left her like this. And every time, she got a little worse.

But this time was different. This time, she'd poured her heart out to him. This time, he'd told her that horrible, awful news. This time, she'd completely lost herself.

Feeling utter and complete hatred for that ugly stranger in the mirror, she threw it and it hit the wall. It shattered into many pieces, fatally broken.

Her sobs began to die down and she sniffed, scratching her face to wipe away the weakness she simply could not overcome. The ache in her chest had become a constant, but tonight she just could no longer bear it.

Impulsively, she swung her legs off of the bed and ambled slowly to the other side of the room where the shards of mirror flickered from the faint light of her lamp.

Bending down, she began to study the pieces of glass. Like her, it was small and shattered, but she knew that it was much stronger than she could ever dream of being. Between two fingers, she picked up the shard. It nicked her skin and she felt a slight pain. That was when she pulled the glass away and pressed it to her wrist. The pain was dull, so dull that she was annoyed. She'd felt so much more in her chest...

She shoved it harder and that's when she could feel it, the relief slowly enveloping her. She dragged it back and forth, deepening and expanding the wound as best she could. Finally, it was over and she could breathe again. Noticing the bloodstained floor, she got to her feet and made her way to the bathroom, where she found a towel and gauze. She, of course, first patched up her cut, surprised that she was actually able to do this. And then, she headed back to her bedroom, where she mopped up the red mess. Once that was done, she threw the soaked towel in her laundry basket and beside it she found something startling.

It was an old T-shirt that read 'Never Give Up.' It all made sense, though. Now that John was engaged, no doubt to that girl he'd been dating: Nicole (or Nikki, whatever it was), he'd probably left some of his clothes there to mask the fact that he was deliberately cheating on her. More tears pricked to her eyes as she picked the shirt up and held it close to her chest, before raising it to her face to breathe in his scent.

Tears flooded down her cheeks, another sob escaping her lips. She dropped down to her bed, shirt still in hand, and cried, cried herself to sleep with John's scent the last thing on her mind.

That was three months ago.

And she hadn't stopped since.

It's kinda short, I know. It's really sad and really brutal, I know. But let's all put on a happy face and enjoy it. I liked writing this, but I'm busy with school, so we'll see how updates go. Don't harass me. If you do, I simply won't try to update faster.

I'm going to do my absolute best on this because I know this is something a lot of people go/have gone through, myself included, and it's very important to approach it the right way.

Be excited because I wasn't originally gonna write this. It was going to be a Pewdiecry story - and I might still write something similar to this for that pairing, but my sissy, KellyMarie, convinced me to give Jorrie another go. So, thank her and go read her stories. They're what inspired me to start writing fanfics in the first place.

By the way, I typed this in about an hour or less. BOOYAH!

With each chapter, I will provide a song that inspired me. The song for this chapter is "Everything's An Illusion" by Mayday Parade.

-Kalina :)