TRIGGER WARNING - There are big mentions of self harm, suicidal thoughts and attempted suicide. Also elements of abuse throughout the story. Please read with caution.


razors pain you;

rivers are damp;

acids stain you;

and drugs cause cramp.

guns aren't lawful;

nooses give;

gas smells awful;

you might as well live.


Everybody has bad days.

Days where they think it could never get better. It's normal, right? It happens to everybody. Those awful, gut-wrenching days where you just cannot wait for them to end. When all you want to do is curl up in dark room, tuck yourself under the sheets and hide from the world. Days where you in all honesty believe that the only way you could ever be happy again is to simply stop having any days at all.

For Maka, that was every day.

It had gotten to that point quickly. Everyone has been there. It hurts, doesn't it? Feeling like there's no hope left in the world. But have you ever gotten so far gone that hope became something foreign to you? Maka had. And there was no way in hell she was going to cope with it any longer.

She had planned it all out perfectly.

The pill container was hidden under her mattress, along with the blade. The pill container was full of her Mama's 'Happy Meds', as she used to call them when she was a little kid. Maka always knew they were strong sleeping pills, so that her Mama could sleep through the sound of her Papa's infidelity with his 'co-worker' in his study. But Maka doubted that Mama would even notice they were gone. She relied on good 'ol whiskey to drown her sorrows now. But no more would Maka have to deal with that knowledge.

No more. Maka Albarn was completely and utterly ready. It was a Wednesday, Mama's day off from work and favourite day of the week, which caused an unusually bright atmosphere to the dull household. You'd think that'd make her more reluctant to do it. Make her want to stay. However, it had to opposite effect. It made her want to go.

The light atmosphere just reminded Maka that it wouldn't last, it wasn't real. It was an illusion. The one-off day her parents thought they'd give her a break from all the screaming, shouting, and yelling she had been brought up in. Being raised in such a web of negativity only made this day inevitable.

Bet they saw it coming, she thought morbidly as she made her way upstairs, finally home from the tedious day at school.

School wasn't much of a break from home. Maka really didn't know what she hated more. Her emotions seemed as fickle as the weather. In the summer, you wanted winter. In the winter, you wanted summer. You always want what you don't have then, but when you finally get what you'd been hoping for, you regret it.

Maka wanted nothing more to be home when she was at school, as all the attention was on her, but in the worst way. The name calling, hair pulling, and chair kicking. Everything may seem like little things, but they were all enough to push her over the edge in the end. Death of a thousand cuts.

Like winter and summer, home was the opposite of school. She was completely ignored, as if she was invisible. Most of the time that is. If ever she did receive any attention, it was only ever negative, and usually involved her regularly drunk and heavy-handed Papa.

Isn't that enough reason to end it? The two lives that she led, at home and at school were both pathetic, miserable lives that no one should be forced to live. So, why should she?

Maka opened her bedroom door and locked it behind her, half cursing, half thanking that she was sure that her parents wouldn't care enough to check on her when the deed was done. When would they finally notice? The smell? The fact no one had prepared them breakfast? Would the school call?

Maka didn't know and she didn't care. She threw her bag to the floor, maybe a little too hard. The books caused a harsh bang on the wooden floor. The sound bounced off the walls of her grey room. She fell to her knees at the side of the bed and pulled the tools out with an eagerness that was almost sick. She had to pull the blade out first. The light shone off of the cold metal.

She smiled.

Maka pulled the pills out afterwards. She rested the blade on her knee before popping open the lid. Her hands were shaking. She pulled out twelve pills and held them up to the light that creeped through the window.

But as she placed the first pill on her tongue, she had to stifle a sob. This is so pathetic; it was hard to even comprehend.

No. She thought to herself furiously. She couldn't go on like this. She won't. Maka stabbed the knife into the wooden floor beside her and spilled out the rest of the pills, all her previous hesitation forgotten.

Maka took one at a time, labelling each with a reason of why she wanted to do this, why she needed to do this. It made it easier. She finished quickly and awaited the effects. Nothing.

She waited a little longer… Nothing. She decided to cut while she waited.

They came on the moment Maka attempted to press the blade to her wrist. Her hand was already shaking. Her hands began to shake more, shaking uncontrollably and light, thick strands of hair began to stick to her face. She dropped the knife to the floor, causing a loud clank as it made impact.

So, this was it, huh? She was finally dying. A huge weight felt like it was lifting, floating off her chest.

But something wasn't right. Wasn't dying meant to be peaceful? It never mentioned this in any of the books.

As her vision grew even hazier, she heard banging coming from the left. Was this apart of dying? Maka turned my head to see the door shaking and her eyes, once heavy lidded, widened. She saw a single figure in the doorway before the world went black.


Maka blinked her eyes open slowly. They felt heavy and her vision and memory was hazy. Her head hurt. Her sight went from black, to a tinted red, then to a semi-normal grey colour as she shifted to look around the room.

White. That was the first thing that came to mind. Only when she smelt that awful antiseptic smell did she realise where she was.

Maka turned her head to see her parents sat with their heads in their hands, almost as if they cared. She raised a brow before laying her head back down, prepared to pretend to be asleep to avoid the false commotion that was sure to come. She guessed Mama must have found her. If her dad had there was no way she'd be alive right now. This is a situation that she didn't plan for.

"Ah, you're awake."

Maka mentally cursed the woman that she found stood in the doorway. The woman was leant casually against the doorframe with her arms crossed. Her glasses reflected the light from the window, so her eyes were unseen, giving her a very intimidating atmosphere. A nurse walked around the woman and began to check Maka's vitals as she glared at anything but the people in the room.

"Maka?"

This was that stupid woman's fault. Maka's folks stood to kneel at the side of her bed, their eyes wide and bloodshot. Mama's looked somewhat genuine, but anyone could easily make out the annoyance in her dad's eyes. But he hid it so well. Could fool anyone.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Papa hissed as he grasped her arm roughly. Maka watched Mama open her mouth to object, but it shut promptly. Guess Maka nearly dying didn't make her mother grow a backbone. Maka sighed and met his eyes levelly.

"I apologise for the inconvenience." She snapped, her voice heavy with annoyance. Papa's eyes flashed with something scary.

Well. She had never done that before. Maka had to fight the urge to avert her eyes as a small lace a fear swept through her stomach. Then chaos erupted.

It was loud. The nurse was asking her questions as she shone an irritating light in Maka's eyes. Her parents were arguing about who got to talk to her first and the woman in the doorway was scolding her parents for 'smothering' her.

Oh, please.

"Why am I here?"

The question made everyone's jaws snap shut. All eyes turned to Maka, wide with shock. She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"Well?"

"Maka," Mama began slowly, her eyes narrowed. "What do you me-"

"Why am I still alive?"

This was obviously what they wanted. They wanted her to say it, so she did. Maka's parents gasped and looked at each other, even the nurse took a sharp intake of breath. The only person who kept their wits was the woman in the doorway. She turned to glare at those in the room.

"May I ask you all to leave? I'd like a moment with Maka."

Maka's parents and the nurse did so without discussion. Mama tried to squeeze her hand on her way out, but Maka pulled hers away sharply.

"Don't." She said quietly. Mama stopped, before nodding sharply and walking out. Papa followed steadily, not even sparing Maka a second glance. That stung a little, though it was no more than she expected. The woman in the doorway finally stepped in and shut the door behind her. Only then did Maka notice the clipboard in her hand and the pen tucked behind her ear. Maka had to desperately resist the urge to roll her eyes. This was just what she needed. A therapist.

"My name is Azusa," The woman said as she made her way to a chair, though her attention was solely on the young blonde in the hospital bed.

"Now, Maka," Azusa began, sitting in the seat that Maka's Mama was previously sat in. "Wanna tell me why you tried to kill yourself?"

Maka had to raise her eyebrows. That was quick. Usually, they work up to trying to get such an answer and try to gain trust, but this woman just went straight for her goal. Maka shook away her thoughts.

"I didn't." Maka replied, her voice guarded. Azusa sighed at the younger woman's response and took off her glasses to rub her eyes.

"So, you're one of them ones, huh?"

"One of what ones?"

"The ones who deny everything. The ones who act too tough to tumble. The ones who think they're so strong that they can deal with everything on their own. Admirable, but stupid."

Maka blinked at the doctor. How did she get all of that just by a two-word response? Maka narrowed her eyes and tilted her chin up as she cast her eyes away to glare out the window.

"I am strong enough to deal with this on my own," The blonde began to say, but Azusa scoffed and Maka's eyes swung back to her.

"Well, I don't know how to put this," Azusa began, her voice thick with sarcasm. "But in my experience, I find that attempting to kill yourself is not the correct way to deal with things."

"I didn't try to kill myself."

"You took twelve sleeping pills in the space of a minute, it would seem." Azusa said precisely.

"…I didn't feel very well." Maka offered lamely; her voice clipped.

"You could have died." Azusa shot back. Maka huffed and turned to glare back out the window.

"Coulda-woulda-shoulda…" She muttered. Azusa was quiet for a while before she finally shifted.

"Hm." Azusa jotted something down on the clipboard, then she placed her glasses back on her face before she looked up at Maka again.

"Okay - I think I know what you need." The doctor stated. She fiddled through some papers before pulling out a leaflet and offering it to Maka. She didn't take it.

"I don't need anything. I'm fine." Maka repeated calmly.

Azusa dropped her arm and faced Maka with a very hard expression that made the younger woman feel… small. Young. Maka squirmed under her gaze but did attempt to meet it head on, though she imagined she looked quite pathetic in comparison.

"Maka," Azusa began in a very precise voice. "I've been speaking with you for less than five minutes and I already have multiple possible-diagnoses. You are not fine."

Maka narrowed her eyes.

"What?"

"Mhmm," Azusa nodded. "I'm thinking a personality disorder, but I'm also detecting some psychosis, but I'm not too sure on that one yet. But Maka, they aren't even what I'm worried about and they're both very bad illnesses to have, especially at your age. Especially this severe."

"What is it that you're worried about then?"

"You have been diagnosed with severe depression. And that is not a possibility but a certainty. You're going to Abraham Falls, and that's final."


Maka stared at the leaflet in her hand, labelled: Abraham Falls Mental Institution for Troubled Minds. She sighed in exasperation for the umpteenth before looking out the car door window. It was this stupid institution that they were headed to.

The fact that she was going there was decided without her, of course. It was decided before she had even woken up. As usual, the grown-ups make all the big, life-altering decisions. Maka didn't get a say in the matter.

She unwillingly heaved another sigh, unaware that we were currently pulling into the Institution's grounds.

"Maka," her Dad spoke, his voice unusually clear and stern. Maka's brows shot up. He mustn't have drank anything today. "I want you to behave in there, okay? It's bad enough we're even allowing you to go to this place. Do you have any idea how this makes us look?"

"Well, I'm ever so sorry my misery causes so many problems for you." Maka muttered. She was moving out, so who cares?

"Now, you shut up with that, alright?" Papa snapped and Mama jumped. "I'm getting sick of this fucking back chat. Just because you're running off to some loony bin doesn't mean you can talk back to me. Remember where you're coming back to, alright?"

Maka noticed her Mama squirm, but she knew that she wouldn't stick up for her. Mama wouldn't even hear the threat in his last sentence. Maka nodded silently, feeling almost happy when the institutions sign came into view. She could finally gain some distance from her ever-cold Papa.

She opened the door before the car had even stopped moving when they arrived. She ignored her Papa's warnings and muttered comments as she made her way up the large, wide steps.

The building looked a lot like a hospital, minis all the automatic doors and that awful smell. Maka slowed down so that her parents could stop at her sides. She fell back automatically as they made their way to the reception.

"Oh, hello!" A cheery voice sounded before they had even got to the desk. Maka turned to see a blonde-haired woman making her way towards them through two double doors that seemed to lead into the hospital. She was pretty, minus the black eye patch that seemed so out of place on a woman as pretty as her. "I'm Marie. Is this the new recruit?"

"Oh, hi," Mama said as she stepped forwards to shake the woman's hand. "I'm Kami and this is my husband-"

"Spirit." Papa took a step forwards to push Mama behind him. He shot Mama a warning glance before turning back towards Marie. "We're here for Maka."

"Ah, Maka!" the woman clapped her hands together as her eyes landed on Maka. Maka frowned as the older woman grinned. "Well, you look just about ready. Do you want to see your room now or -"

"Yes," Maka said, unable and unwilling to mask the desperation in her voice. The blonde woman smiled again before turning to Maka's parents.

"If you want to say your goodbyes, I can take Maka to get settled while you finish the paperwork. Is that alright?"

"That's fine," Spirit said dismissively. Maka coughed to hide a scoff. Her Papa's eyes snapped towards her and her heart sunk when they narrowed.

"Can I say goodbye to her alone please?"

He didn't wait for a response as he dragged his daughter a little away from Mama and the doctor. He placed his hands on Maka's shoulders before he pulled her into a hug.

"Remember what I said, okay?" he muttered, and all air left Maka's lungs. "I don't want any more shit. And I won't forget the way you've been speaking to me. Is that acceptable, girl?"

Any cockiness that Maka had in her dried up as she shook her head, frozen with fear. Papa sighed and rubbed her back. She was sure to anyone it would simply look like a heart-broken Papa saying goodbye to his daughter. If only they knew.

"And you know better than to mention anything silly in a place like this right?" he carried on in that sickening voice. "You don't want to get daddy in trouble now, do you?"

Maka shook her head.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice made bile rise in her throat. He pulled away and patted her shoulder before guiding her back to Mama. Maka's legs felt stiff with horror.

She hoped she'd never go home.

Mama hugged her softly, though Maka didn't return it, and murmured her goodbye into her daughter's hair. Maka's heart clenched. Oh, how she wished this was real. The feeling shattered as her Papa planted a soft kiss on her forehead, his voice strained but false as he muttered his goodbye.

"Now, you get better soon so you can come back to us, you hear?" he said in a strange voice. He backed away to wrap his arm around Mama's waist who rested her head on his shoulder, nodding in agreement. Maka stared at the scene. It looked real. Almost. But then her Papa's eyes darkened when Marie's back turned and his arm dropped from his wife's waist. Maka's eyes narrowed as she took a step back.

She wouldn't think of them twice the moment they were gone, she promised herself. She gave Papa one last dark look before turning on her heels and disappearing into the hospital.


Maka ended up in Marie's workspace. It was quite homely for an office, and all the tension had oozed from her body now that she was a safe distance away from her Papa. She sat on a comfy armchair in front of a large wooden desk and twiddled her thumbs. Marie watched her and wrote something down. Maka frowned and pulled her hands apart - Marie jotted something down again. Well, this is gonna be fucking annoying.

"So, Maka," Marie began, her voice already coated in sympathy. "I heard your story from Azusa, and it just about broke my heart. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Maka said immediately, and met Marie's eyes with her own blankly, hoping to give nothing away. "There's nothing to talk about."

Marie's eyes clouded with sorrow.

"Maka, I know you haven't been able to talk to someone recently but that's different now. There are people here who will understand you and some that know what you're going through. You're on the same road. If you want to get better, we need to talk."

"No, they need to talk to get better. I need to be left alone."

"No one can recover on their own, not even someone like you."

Maka frowned.

"Someone like me?"

"You've been enduring this for a while now, haven't you?" Marie asked softly as she looked to the papers on her lap. Maka shuffled in discomfort. "From your diagnosis I can see this is a long-term thing. Want to tell me about that?"

"Will it make you leave me alone?"

"Yes."

Maka rolled her eyes at the lie.

"Fine, I tried to off myself because there was nothing left. It wasn't getting better. I had nothing to look forward to and nothing made me happy. Hell, I have yet to understand what happy feels like - But I can't be helped because this is who I am. I was brought up in such a shit environment that it seeped into me and made me who I am now. And you can't change that no matter how much you want to."

Maka was breathless by the time she had finished. Marie only folded her arms over the clipboard to lean forward as she analysed the blonde blatantly. The doctor then narrowed her eyes before she jotted something down and leant toward Maka once more. Maka huffed.

"Maka, everyone in their life feels like there's no point at some point. You just had more reason to believe it. But you can get better if you cooperate."

"You don't think I've already thought about that?" Maka asked in exasperation, throwing her hands up. "Because I did. I tried to think in every single way how things could get better, but I came up blank. My parents are the problem, and they will never change, and I'm stuck with them till I turn eighteen. I'm sorry, but I'm not willing to wait another two years. I can't last that long."

Marie shook her head and placed her notebook down. This made Maka feel a little more at ease. When she wrote stuff down it felt like she was being studied. Maka didn't like that.

"There are ways you wouldn't understand that could improve your mental health. Things that we can offer here." Marie told her softly.

Maka sighed and Marie leaned forward to pat Maka's shoulder. Maka stiffened under the pressure. Marie noticed and let go.

"We will do everything in our power to make you happy, Maka," she said in a firm voice. Maka looked up in surprise.

"To make me happy?" Maka asked with a humourless laugh. "Not healthy? I thought you all thought I was sick."

Marie nodded slowly before drawing her hands away.

"You are sick, Maka. You're mentally sick and you suffer physical wounds that were self-inflicted, we presume" Maka winced. So, they were gonna do this now?

"You hurt yourself too, Maka?"

"It helps me," Maka said through gritted teeth.

"Maka, it couldn't help you." Marie said in a sad voice. "It never did. You may think it did, but it didn't."

"It did," Maka snapped.

"How?" Marie asked suddenly. Maka leant back into her seat as she tried to form her feelings into words.

"I was hurting all the time," Maka said slowly before pointing to her head. "In here. It made everything feel so much worse. When I cut, the pain was separated. The physical pain distracted me from whatever was going on in my head. I could finally make sense of it - Think clearly. And the mental pain was always so much worse. I could think straight. It was such a relief. But it only lasted for the time I was cut."

Marie nodded slowly, but her eyes were still strained. She looked uncomfortable.

"I can see some sense in that," The older woman allowed. "But that doesn't make it right. There are healthier ways to get your thoughts and feelings in order."

"Like what?"

"Hobbies, friends, interests…"

"Don't have any."

Marie smiled and shook her head. "Now that's not true. You like to read."

Maka thought about it for a moment, before shrugging.

"…Yeah. Yeah, reading's nice."

"We have a library here." Marie chuckled as Maka's eyes widened. "We'll work on the hobby and friends front, but for now if you're overwhelmed, no matter where you are, just go to the library and read till your heart's content."

Maka hesitated before nodding slowly. Marie clapped her hands together.

"Okay. I need to work on your schedule so how about I take you to get settled in your room?"

Maka nodded.

"Okay."