Save Me From Myself (BTTxDepressed!Reader) Part 4

Who is that girl I see
Staring straight back at me
Why is my reflection
Someone I don't know
Somehow I cannot hide
Who I am though I've tried
When will my reflection show
Who I am inside.

I’d spent a two hour car ride listening to Antonio sing loudly and off key, Francis try to play air guitar and keep hitting Toni in the face, and Gilbert constantly asking if I was okay. I said yes. Because okay was a barren wasteland littered with rotting corpses. Okay was being thin to the point it hurt and still not being able to achieve perfection. Being okay was being haunted by the memories of a lonely childhood with a dead father and a ghost of a mother begging for her next fix. I was, and always will be okay.

It’s funny how the dusty sand tastes like blood to a starving animal. It ignites the senses, makes you long for a passion you can’t quite grasp. It makes you savage, desperate, feral.  As soon as I stepped from the car I breathed in the crisp air, gazed out at the sunset tinted water lapping at the beach. I took my shoes off, dug my toes in deep, and just watched.

In the calm water I could see the house, a beautiful two story colonial twisted into the rocky cliffs behind the beach. A trail of dewy grass wound up the hill to the house. Silently, understanding my need to be alone, the boys took the luggage and began to climb the hill. I watched their reflections in the water, like tiny ants raiding a picnic. I took a step forward letting the cold water touch my feet. My shoes lay behind me, forgotten. The sun was disappearing, and I laid down between the rough ocean and the soft sand.

The water lapped over me, cleaning my jeans to my legs and my shirt to my stomach. Froth wound like little snakes through my hair. I breathed in the air again. The silent peace of the night was disturbed.

“May I join you?” Francis’s voice rippled across the silence, like the waves across the sand. You peered up at him. The last dying rays of the sun made his soft hair glow, his pale skin shone like porcelain. He held himself with an effortless elegant. What could such a beautiful creature want with you? For a second you almost forgot that you were (first and last name) and Francis was one of your best friends. You were the dark waves, and he was the bright sun.

He sat down and gently held you as the golden halos of light merged in a twisting collage with the wild, deep water. The both faded to dark. Tears ran down your cheeks at the beauty of the tragic scene.

A warm hand touched your cheek. “Mon amor, why do you cry?” He tried desperately to wipe the salty water from your cheeks. But the tears kept coming welling up and fanning across your eyelashes.

“The sun is dying Francis.” He threaded his fingers through your, holding tight. The had soaked you up to your shoulders, and your head rested on Francis’s lap. The tips of his jeans had turned heavy with water and sand.


“ I know (name). But it will come back tomorrow, and there will always be a tomorrow.”

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“Frau, what do you see when you look in the mirror? You blinked slowly at Gilbert, as if he were retarded. His blonde hair kept falling in his eyes, and you thoughtlessly reached out to brush it away. He sighed, and turned you back around so your were facing the floor length mirror.

Placing his hands firmly on your shoulder he said again “What do you see?” You sighed, and looked at the reflection intently. Antonio, who had been standing thoughtfully to the side tossed you a marker, you caught it, clumsily. “Write it” Gil urged “On the mirror.”

You uncapped the pink erase marker and hesitantly stepped forward. Clumsy. Stupid. Worthless. Fat. Ugly. Neat bullet point after neat bullet point. You turned towards the boys. Francis had just entered from the kitchen, carrying a plate of brownies. He set them down on the table then scanned the list.

Gil gave you a sad half smile. “Okay now” He took the pink marker and replaced it with a dark purple one. Antonio, grabbed the back of your hand and guided it in huge arks. The dark letters took up the whole mirror, making the other words irrelevant and tiny. I guess, you thought, with a bitter smirk, that was what they wanted. BEAUTIFUL. You stood back and sighed.

“What was the point of this?” You asked, sitting dejectedly on the couch. “I’m never going to think I’m beautiful.” Francis smiled and opened your palms, placing a brownie in each. He raised the right hand higher, and guided it to your mouth. You reluctantly ate the rich chocolatey confection. The guilty pleasure of it’s taste made you shiver. He then gestured to the single brownie.

You raised it up to the light, staring intently. What did this brownie have to do with anything? What secret could it hold?

“You see frau, the awesome me is awesomer than you. The pink is what you think, the purple is me. Mine is more awesome therefore more accurate keesee.” Gilbert said, and then he erased it all. Ugly and beautiful alike.

You smiled a tiny bit. “So why the brownie?” The BTT exchanged mischievous looks.

Antonio answered first. “Nothing, but you ate it.” You stared at him incredulously. Then you giggled. They joined in. You watched the three of them joke and shove, goofing around. Those were the friends you knew. The smile faded of your face.

Sitting here surrounded by people who loved you.... you had never felt more alone.