You were home alone, and unbeknownst to you, a ghost escaped one of their iron boxes downstairs- you were spiraling, a voice in your head screaming at you.

You’re better off dead.

Lucy and Lockwood were on a job and I was getting groceries, I’d be home soon.

Just slash your wrists-

The front door opens, I walk into the kitchen.

You snap out of it- then quickly pull down your sleeves and slam the knife drawer shut.

“No apples, BUT-“ I cut myself off.

“What the hell are you doing?”