Desperation
A/N: ***TRIGER WARNING FOR SELF HARM, EATING DISORDERS AND THE ISSUE OF SUCICDE. And, um… let's all pretend Steve-o was in this 8 months ago…***
Rhiannon was sat on her bed in the school house, ignoring Maggie, scout and even Harley's pleas to come downstairs and join them for a festive film and a "wee mince pie". She threw her bag on to the bed, and hunted through it for what she was looking for. A slim bottle of Vodka, a razor and 4 packets of paracetamol to add to the 2 she already had stashed away in a makeup bag. She went over to the door, double checking it was locked. Unfortunately, Maggie was just down the hall, getting a blanket from the cupboard at the end of the hallway. Upon hearing the footsteps in Rhiannon's room she decided to go and check on her, and knocked on the door. Rhiannon sighed, not wanting to have to see anyone, and quickly pulled back the duvet on the bed, covering the items. She quickly grabbed Sellotape off her desk, and shoved her headphones in her ears, before opening the door and pulling out her headphones, so it looked like she was just wrapping presents, and greeted Maggie with a smile.
"You okay?" Rhiannon asked the ginger haired woman, who was close to the young girl, especially since the death of her husband 2 and a half months earlier.
"Yes, I was worried about you pet, you seem… quiet." Maggie said, pulling the teen into a hug.
"Nah, me quiet?" Rhiannon said, laughing slightly. It was true. To anyone who wasn't Rhiannon herself the thought of the bubbly teenager being even slightly quiet was far-fetched, to say the least.
"Well, you don't quite seem yourself; anyway, do you want to join us downstairs? We are just putting on the dinner; we are having lasagne and garlic bread, your old favourite." She said, smiling.
"Oh, I'm sorry; I've already eaten, when I was Christmas shopping me and… Imogen went to Pizza hut with Dynasty, I couldn't eat another thing." She said, and convinced, Maggie left her to her 'Christmas present wrapping'.
Rhiannon went back into her room, drawing the curtains and locking the door. She pulled back the duvet, and picked up the boxes of tablets and the bottle of vodka and put them inside an old makeup bag inside the back of the wardrobe. Once there was no sign of any of the items she picked up the razor. Pulling it out of its plastic wrapping she pulled off the rubber blade guard, and gave the razor an experimental scrape over the white skin on my wrist, and soon there was a deep red line to match the other marks and scars on her pale wrist. She did it a few more times, the pain flowing away from me her as she breathed out the breath she didn't even realise she was holding. I reached into the desk draw beside me for the anti-septic wipes I kept in there, and tore the foiled package in two, pulling the wipe and dragging it over the red cuts. It stung, but if I was to keep this a secret I had to deal with it. Pulling down her sleeves of her bulky hoody she went downstairs, deciding so not to raise suspicion from Maggie she should at least eat something. 2 months ago she was a size 18-20, now a size sixteen, and although, in some sick kind of way that was something to be proud of. Although her weight was going up, and her tummy was expanding, even though she was eating less, but she was hated her body so much she just didn't think about it, putting it down to the amount she ate after Grantly's death.
3 Hours later.
Closing the door and locking it, she fumbled in the wardrobe for the familiar bag in the back of it. She was ready, the single parcels for each person wrapped in shiny paper were under the tree downstairs, something to remember her by, something she knew they would all love.
She ripped the tablets out of the silver blister packaging, all 64 of the tablets in a little pile on her bed as she un- screwed the top off the bottle of Vodka. Downing half of it, she pulled a face as the nasty liquid burned down her throat. She took hold of a few of the tablets, sipping the vodka to wash them down, repeating the process until she passed out.