A/N: Mention of self-harm and abuse.
Just a quick little one shot.
Pair hinted: Smitchie.
She had always been that girl that everyone knew as depressed. It was no big secret that she was sad all the time, cut, always felt pain. She was that girl who would tell a stranger more than a person normally would.
Then, he came around. He made her happy. She smiled more than she had in months, even years. She stopped telling everyone everything. They thought she was better. They were wrong.
Bruises started to appear but she never said a word. An ankle or wrist would turn out swollen, she never said a word. This confused people. They started to ask questions, she gave false answers, fake smiles.
She was still with him. People started to question. Had it been him? Was he the cause of her injuries? No, they all thought. He is what makes her happy, he loves her, he would never hurt her. They were wrong.
Slowly, the couple looked less and less happy. Sure, they smiled around each other, but her smiles were weak, almost forced looking, and his were smug, power filled.
No one questioned, she never said a word. She stopped talking altogether really, She spoke few words as possible when spoken to and her smiles stopped, even the fake ones. How was it possible for her to look worse than before? Still, no one questioned him.
A few months later she stopped coming to school altogether. Soon, people saw him with another girl. He was cheating? People couldn't believe it.
A friend finally went to see her. She had been covered in black bruises, struggling to move, or even stand. She finally spoke.
She still wasn't the same after it was said and done. Yes, she no longer cut, yes, she was safe and yes, people cared. She still never spoke how she felt, just kept it locked away. No one knew exactly what to do. Then again, what can you?