So I'm meant to be studying for final exams and all that jazz, but I just couldn't resist posting this story that I wrote last week.

I think you should look up "When I Look at You" by Miley Cyrus and listen to it while you're reading this. It wasn't meant to be a songfic, but I was inspired by this song and it just kinda turned out that way.

Read on. :)

Don't You Know… You're Beautiful

She drives for hours. Time to go back to school, back to reality. Holidays are over and she doesn't think that she can take it anymore. She drives aimlessly, mindlessly, almost recklessly, not really caring if anything happens to her. She turns up her music trying to drown out her thoughts.

Yeah, when my world is falling apart

Life sucks.

When there's no light to break up the dark

She doesn't want the pain to continue on any longer. She doesn't believe that anyone loves her. She doesn't believe that she's beautiful. It's not like she threatens to commit suicide all the time, or ever in fact, but it's clear that she thinks that she has no right to be alive anymore. No right to anything – not even life. She doesn't think she deserves it – not being so imperfect, as she knows she is. She feels like the darkness is closing in around her and that there's nothing she can do to stop it.

That's when I look at you

She cries as she drives, wishing she had someone to talk to, wishing there was someone she could turn to, who would be there for her. She's slightly thankful that it's dark so other people can't see her tears. Not that she minds that much. She's gone way past caring what other people think. She thinks they've all already stereotyped her anyway. Put her in a box that has something like 'never gonna make it' or 'tries too hard' or just plain 'loser' written all over it.

When the waves are flooding the shore

Finally she gets to her home. House, she corrects herself miserably. Nowhere feels like home anymore. Home is where happiness is and she can't even remember what that means. It's been far too long. It's so long ago that she doesn't even know if she wants to be happy. She can't remember what it's like. Although, she thinks miserably, Anything's got to be better than this.

And I can't find my way home anymore

She goes inside and locks herself in her room. She takes off all her clothes and stands in front of the mirror, looking at herself. She spreads her arms out and turns slightly so that she can see herself from a different angle. She sighs and shakes her head, tears welling up in her eyes. Imperfect, that's what she thinks. Imperfect.

That's when I look at you

She walks into the bathroom and pulls a small object out of the bottom drawer. She puts her laptop down on the toilet seat and turns the music up loud before walking to the shower. She slides the door open and slips inside, turning the water as hot as it can go. The steam from the shower fogs up the door and she can't see out anymore.

You appear just like a dream to me

She stands there for a minute before raising the object, looking at it glinting in the yellow glow of the heat lamp.

Just like kaleidoscope colours that cover me

She lifts her left wrist and places the blade against it lightly, looking at the contrast of dark metal on white skin. She's so thin and pale, the blue veins outlined against the skin.

All I need, every breath that I breathe

She takes a deep breath and starts to press harder against the skin, but before it cuts through the surface, words filter into her mind through the sound of the water splashing.

Don't you know, you're beautiful

She drops the blade and sits on the floor of the shower. She puts her head in her hands and cries until she can't cry anymore, the sound of the water drowning out her sobs. Then she stands up and switches the water off, getting out of the shower.

She dries herself slowly and puts on her pyjamas. They hang loosely on her thin body. She gets into bed and pulls the covers over her head, still whimpering softly. She wasn't brave enough. She's never brave enough. Then there is a soft beeping noise. She'd forgotten that her phone was in her bag. She hadn't looked at it all day, maybe all week. It wasn't worth it. No one cared enough to contact her anyway.

She picks up the phone even though she thinks it will just be a message from the phone company or something. She frowns when she looks at it. 10 text messages? 14 missed calls? What's going on? As she holds the phone it starts to ring. She presses the talk button and holds the phone to her ear. She starts to break down as she realises who it is.

It's him. It's not his fault. It's her fault. She knows that, but somehow she thinks that he has something to do with it. Don't even ask why. She doesn't know. But she listens to him talk. He says he doesn't know why he's calling. He's just felt that he should call all week, but he hasn't been able to get through. "Thank God you answered," he says, relief evident in his voice. He knows you're crying and he talks to you softly, gently, like he would to a child.

"I don't know where you are or what you're doing," he says and his voice cracks slightly, as if he could imagine what you were about to do. Am I really that transparent? she thinks.

But something in his voice makes her trust him. "Can you come over?" she asks. She doesn't think he will. He's just a friend she's known for a couple of years. It's the middle of the night and there's no reason why he would drive all the way from his house an hour away to see her.

She is surprised when he answers almost before she has finished asking. "Yes! I'm on my way. Don't hang up the phone." She can hear him fumbling for his keys. "I'm leaving right now. You don't know how long I've wanted to come and see you. I didn't think you'd want it though. You seem to like being by yourself these days, but I don't trust you to be by yourself. So I'm coming. Stay on the line, I'll be there soon."

She keeps the phone pressed against her ear. There is the sound of a car door slamming and then she can hear him driving. Fast it sounds like. Sometimes he talks, soothingly. Sometimes there is silence, but she feels comforted by the fact that he's there. Someone cares about her.

He gets to her in record time. She has unlocked the door for him and is back in bed. He comes in without knocking, glancing in the bathroom door as he passes it. He sees the razors and towels. He sees the white envelope lying on the floor. He glances once, takes it all in and then runs to her, huddled under the covers. He pulls back the blankets and picks her up, letting her sob against his chest. He lies down on the bed, her still in his arms and pulls the covers back over them.

He buries his face in her hair, stroking her back, patting her shoulder until finally she has almost cried herself to sleep. Her tired eyes look up at him and he kisses her cheek softly. "I'm here for you. I'm going to stay with you until things are better okay? I promise I won't leave you." He trails his finger down her cheek. "I'm your friend and I love you so much. Don't ever forget that."

She closes her eyes. She feels safe now that he's there. Everything is going to be okay now. As she drifts off to sleep she can feel his hand in hers and his soft breath on her cheek as he whispers to her.

"Don't give up… don't you know, you're beautiful."

What did you think? Yet another depressing Nikki oneshot? At least she doesn't die in this one. :)

Let me know what you thought.

xoxo