Warning: may be triggering, suicidal thoughts

Whispers at three am turn into pleas.

The sobs finally stifle themselves as your reverie plays out in your mind.

You finally slip away into sleep after replaying your deepest desires.

You slip away as you imagine green light pointed at you, as you whisper to never wake up after this night, wishing that the beating of your heart slows until it ceases to make a sound.

It doesn't work.

It never works.

You're disappointed when you wake up to another morning, breathing this awful breath, living this never-ending life.

You scrimmage for your uniform, wash your face, all the while ignoring the ever-present thought in your head.

I want to die.

I want to die.

I want to die.

You've grown accustom to its presence among your thoughts. Gotten used to having it there. Always whispering, always voicing your deepest desires.

You walk down to breakfast.

Someone catches your eye.

I want to die.

You smile back.

I want to die.

You sit at the end of the table. Away from the noise. Left alone with your thoughts.

I want to die.

I want to die.

"Hey, Lucy. You alright?"

You smile at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine Ly. Just worried about the Charms exam."

I want to die.

He sits next to you.

He assures you that you'll do fine.

You thank him.

He sits a little too close for comfort.

You hate it.

You love it.

He almost silences it.

You're scared that it's gone forever.

You're hoping that it never comes back.

But sure enough the voice comes.

I want to die.

You both walk to Charms.

He tells you to cheer up.

You tell him you're always happy.

Tell him that you're just stressed out.

You smile at him.

He smiles back.

I want to die.

I want to die.

You mindlessly take the Charms exam.

You forgot about it until this morning.

You wouldn't have studied anyway.

You're pretty sure you got an O.

You don't care.

I want to die.

I want to die.

You're scared that you'll accidentally say it.

You've come close enough too many time.

"What's wrong?"

"I want to d—ance"

"I want to di—et"

You go to your next class.

You talk when you have to.

You smile when necessary.

You stir some potions, glance over words in old textbooks, avoid eye contact, and hope that tomorrow never comes for you.

Same old routine.

You go to lunch.

You want to go up to your dormitory but there will be too many questions.

And Ly will be there at lunch.

I want to die.

He talks to you with words that seem too sincere.

"Luc, your smile is so pretty—and yet you never use it. You're so smart—and yet you panic over every exam. You never say much, but I now you're dying to say so much. Lucy, please, tell me. What's wrong?"

You speak back with every syllable drenched in lies.

"I'm fine, Ly. Just stressed out. I just…just don't feel like dealing with people sometimes. I'm fine. I'm always fine."

I want to die.

I want to die.

Please, can't you tell, I want to die.

He looks at you.

You don't meet his eyes.

You almost believe that he knows.

You go through your life, day by day, putting up with the voice. Silencing it and cultivating its presence all at once. You don't know if you can live without it. You don't know if you can die with it.

You don't tell anyone.

Mistake number one.

I want to die.

I want to die.

You don't express your true feelings—ever.

Mistake number two.

I want to die.

I want to die.

You put up with everything because you know it'll hurt everyone too much if you act on your deepest desires.

Mistake number—you don't know if it's a mistake.

But if your beating heart is keeping your family and everyone else from the brink, you won't act on anything.

You're not selfish.

You'll put up with it.

I want to die.

I want to die.

You'll put up with it until it finally comes true.

Your death is inevitable and it's the only thing that keeps you going.