𝟷𝟷 - 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗

                                    

                                          
A/N: This chapter includes the mention of mental health struggles such as suicidal thoughts, self-harm, and panic/anxiety attacks. Please feel free to reach out for help if you think you experience any of these, someone will always listen <3 
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Tears threatened to spill down my cheeks, but I refused to let them. The chilly air pricked at my skin, but it couldn't cool down the feverish heat radiating from my panic-stricken body. Sweat beaded down my forehead, my heart hammering so violently it drowned out every other sound. Yet, despite the chaos inside, numbness kept me distant from it all.
I was moving—running, walking, jogging—aimlessly through the Glade. I had nowhere to go, just an overwhelming need to be anywhere but the Med-hut.
The Gladers were busy with their nightly activities around the fire pit. Their laughs and lively mood contrasted drastically with my meltdown, so no one noticed my panicked escape from the Med-hut.
After what felt like hours of wandering, I stumbled into the bathroom, finding myself at the sink behind the toilet stalls.
I stared into the cracked mirror, the reflection of my bloodshot eyes meeting my gaze. Her lips were raw and patchy, with different shades of pink. The sight of her—of myself—made me sick.
What a disgusting sight. 
What a disgusting person.
Why do I feel like this? 
I'm not supposed to. 
What is wrong with me? Why?
Without thinking, I fumbled for the pouch in my pocket, retrieving a pill from the medicine bottle. I placed the bottle on the sink, the pill trembling between my fingers as I brought it to my lips.
I hesitated. It might kill me.
Isn't that better?
No.
But taking this felt right. Like I had done it many times before.
Yes.
I can't be like this. I can't!
It's weak.
Minho's words echoed in my head. "You're nothing but a weak girl." "We don't need you." "What's your excuse for being so pathetic?"
I also didn't know. It's how I am. I never wanted this.
I slowly brought the pill closer to my mouth, my lips slightly apart as I stared at my reflection. A sob broke free.
"Don't do this, please," I whispered to the girl in the mirror. "I can't."
My knees weakened, and I leaned on the sink for support. The pill is still between my fingers.
I looked down, shaking my head, my shoulders slumping. My lips trembled as I bit them to stop the sobs, but they came out anyway.
It all overwhelmed me—destroying me. The loneliness, the doubts, the fears, the anxiety. All of the pent-up emotions I've been suppressing most of the time.
I didn't realize I could feel this way. 
No matter how hard I tried to convince myself it was not a big deal, I couldn't. I was starting to doubt myself. Minho was right, it was unfair to those who had been here longer. They didn't break down, and neither did Teresa. 
So what the fuck is this?
I'm not like this.
I shouldn't be.