She hadn't expected it to get this bad.
Resting in bloodstained water, Levy hadn't anticipated it to get this bad.
Wrists slit, scalding water burning her naked body, mind blank and protruding scars, she sat.
Pills dissolving in her stomach, she dizzied.
When did all of this even begin?
Was this the right way to handle things?
It probably wasn't.
But she hadn't thought twice about it.
She didn't even tell anyone, not even Lucy.
Not how she felt.
Not how she's been harming herself.
Not how she so very wanted to disappear.
Levy almost felt she couldn't.
Would Lucy understand?
Would the information jar her?
Thinking of that now was pointless.
She didn't think she'd be conscious for much longer.
She was cold.
The water was warm and prickling.
She wanted to itch her burning skin but she felt she didn't have any strength to lift her forearms.
Blood left the gashes in her wrists like swirling dye in the tub of water.
It was enthralling.
She couldn't see straight.
Her throat was tight and her stomach felt queasy.
Her arms felt like lead.
They didn't want to move.
She hoped they would.
Her wet hair, full of life and color, clung to her neck.
Her face, ghostly and impassive, remained in a daze.
A black dot here, a black dot there.
One. Two. Five.
More.
She blinked.
They wouldn't go away.
Her eyelids were heavy.
Levy lolled her head against the acrylic.
She felt like she was high.
The light that shone down on her was dim and was becoming dimmer.
She swallowed. Hard.
She blinked rapidly this time, a feeble attempt to rid of the darkness.
It remained and only seemed to grow larger.
Her heartbeat was slow, too slow.
There was a lump in her throat that she couldn't make pass.
This was suffocating.
She didn't..
She didn't want to go yet.
Why did she-?
There were books she had to read. Friends she had to greet.
Feelings she had to confess.
Her entire body felt like it was so light, but it was uncomfortable.
So uncomfortable.
She couldn't find her voice.
Levy shivered.
Goosebumps crawled along her skin.
Everything was so gelid.
Gajeel.
Lucy.
Lily.
Jet.
Droy.
Please.
There were no opening of doors.
There were no cries for help.
There was no stopping of the blood or the rushing to a hospital.
There was nothing but pitch darkness and a sense of airiness to her being.
Levy wished she could have at least apologized.
A/N: I don't have much to say about this. This was just a... vent, kind of? I guess?
(I do not own Fairy Tail or the characters.)