Hi guys, I posted this story a while back, but I decided to reread it, correct it, and finish it. I hope you'll read the corrections and then the new chapters I'll write.

This story contains a lot of dark themes (self-harm, self-hate, suicidal thoughts) and might be hard for some to read. If it triggers something for you, don't be afraid to reach out for help. Nobody is more courageous than someone who asks for help to get better.

Chapter 1: I think there's something wrong with me

Emily's POV

I'm sitting on my window seat - lost in thoughts - when my mother comes into my room to bring me back my clothes. She takes the piles of folded clothes out of the basket and puts them on my bed. She glances at me and instantly sees that I'm crying.

"Honey, what's wrong?" She sits next to me.

I search deeply into her eyes. I desperately need to find some comfort in them. There isn't any. Her eyes are warm, but dark nonetheless. I want to speak what's on my mind, but I don't think I should. Not to her.

I still try. "I think there's something wrong with me..."

"What? Emily, there's nothing wrong with you," my mom tells me and hugs me. "You're excellent at school, and you are the captain of the school's swim team. Everything is perfect. You are perfect."

"I just had a long day; I think I'll read for a while," I let out with a fake smile.

"Alright, honey. Don't go to bed too late; you need some rest." She kisses my forehead and leaves my room, unaware that she didn't help at all.

Tears start to run down my cheeks again. Perfect. Normal. Those are words that I wish could apply to me. But they don't. I'm not perfect. All my friends are dreaming about their future husbands. I'm not. They are all planning which boy they want to go out with. I'm not. The only person I think of -all the time- is Spencer. A girl. My best friend. That's not normal. That's not perfect. That should not be happening. I should be able to drool over the boys in our year with Hanna. But I can't. I don't feel anything towards them. I just don't care. Spencer, on the other hand... Fuck! I'm messed up! I reach down under the cushion I'm sitting on, and I can breathe again. My hand closes around a razor blade. I roll up my sleeve and look down at my arm. There are already many cuts, healed for the most part. I bring the blade to my skin and slice it open a few times. I breathe in and out slowly through the pain. Controlling the pain. After a while, I don't feel anything anymore. Nothing except emptiness. Blood is starting to trickle down my arm, forcing me to stop. I wipe it with a tissue, making sure not to soil anything. My phone chimes, making me jump.

Do you want to come over? I'm feeling lonely. Melissa and my parents left for Philly for the weekend. And I miss you already... - Spence

An instant smile appears on my lips.

Of course? Will Han and Aria be there?

Yes. Will you come over for the night?

I'm disappointed; I wish I could be alone with her. I don't feel like having a sleepover, but I want to see her. I need to see her.

Be over in ten?

Perfect, see u soon. xx

I pack a bag with everything I need for the night — not forgetting to pack an extra sweater to hide the new cuts on my arm— and go downstairs to tell my mom I'm spending the night at Spencer's.

Spencer's POV

Someone knocks at the door. I run downstairs to open it. As soon as Emily sees me, she smiles. But something is different in the way she does it. Her smile has been off for a few weeks now. She still acts the same, but when I look at her - truly look I mean - I can see something different in her behavior. Something... dark-er.

"Hi, Em," I greet her as I hug her.

"Hey, Spence." She turns her head a little bit—almost like she doesn't want me to have a good look at her.

"Come sit down." I sit on the couch and wait for her to sit next to me. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" She is still avoiding my gaze.

"Em, look at me."

She doesn't. As I intend to lean in and make her look at me, someone knocks again. It's Hanna and Aria. When we go back to the living room, where Emily is sitting, the sadness I saw on her face earlier is gone. I look at her, and she smiles; she's hiding something.

"What do you want to do?" Aria asks.

"It doesn't matter as long as it involves alcohol," Hanna replies with a smirk.

"Yeah, speak for yourself," Emily argues.

"Same here; I don't want to drink," I admit. I'm not leaving Emily to herself tonight.

"Well, I'll drink with you, Han," Aria adds.

"Nice! The sleepover can officially start!" Hanna exclaims.

She takes a bottle of alcohol out of her bag, and Aria goes into the kitchen to take two empty glasses and two water bottles for Emily and me.

...

"I think Hanna is pretty drunk," Emily whispers in my ear around midnight.

"Yes, and so is Aria," I add, laughing.

"Hey, I... Heard you... I'm so not... drunk." Hanna argues as she sits next to Emily and smacks her jokingly on the arm.

Emily bites her lip. She gets up and excuses herself to the bathroom. Weird... While Emily is gone, I watch Hanna and Aria play around and have their drunken fun. It normally amuses me to watch them, but right now I can't seem to bring myself to care.

Once Emily gets back, we all agree that it is time to go to bed. Emily and I make sure that Hanna and Aria get upstairs safely. We change into our night clothes and Emily keeps her distance from us. More than usual. She was always shy about her body, but there's something in the way she's distant tonight that makes me think she's... closed off. As Hanna and Aria leave the room to go to sleep in the guest bedroom, I see Emily put her sweater back on, and an uneasy feeling takes over my body.

I close the door and the light, and we lie in bed. Emily stays away from me. Unusual. She turns on her side, her back is facing me. After a couple of minutes, I hear her crying. I get closer to her and put my hand on her hip.

"Emily, sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I don't want to talk. Please, just hold me, Spence."

"Em, turn around."

Emily turns reluctantly to face me. I take her hand and pull her closer to me. She is still crying. She puts her head on my shoulder. I put my other arm around her waist in a protective way, careful not to move her left arm. She might not want to talk about it, but it's getting pretty obvious to me that either someone hurt her or she did so herself. I whisper sweet words in her ear until she falls asleep.