Suicidal Thoughts{Finished}

My hand started to shake as I raised the tip of the gun to my temple. I quickly found a pencil, all of the pre-written suicide notes came to my mind, pages and pages say who exactly made me feel this way- but only a few words were written; I love you, Luke.



22. 20

Chapter 20

I could literally feel something snap inside. There was no more butterflies, just anger. There was nothing left inside, I was empty and I knew I'd never forgive Luke for doing this. For the first time in five years, I was no longer in love with Luke Hemmings. I knew it was love from the moment I had laid eyes on my screen, listening to his and Calum's cover of The A Team. My love had only prospered from that moment. I met him two years after following his career, and it has been three years that I've been with Luke.

I will never look at Luke the same. I will never treat him the same. Sure, part of me would always care. But other than that, I felt nothing more than anger.

I quickly ended my conversation as I told him I'd be there by tonight, because I missed him. He shyly said okay, telling me he loved me. I only bid him a goodbye, not wanting to encourage something that would never happen.

"Babe?" Luke asked, leaving the bathroom.

"Uhh, yes?" I murmured, kind of done with his shit.

"Who was that?" He asked, pulling on his shoes.

I decided to be truthful, maybe I'd get something in return, "Dillon," I spoke simply, trying not to put any emotion into it.

A look of shock crossed his face, but only for a split seconds. He probably thought he covered it up; news flash Luke, nobody is as oblivious as you.

"Is there something wrong with that?" I asked slipping my phone into my back pocket.

"No, I just thought-" he cut himself off for a moment, then played a grin on his face, "Nothing, babe."

"You thought that he might have already killed himself, right?" I snapped.

"What?" He practically exclaimed, curiosity and pain lighting up his face. Once he fully put the pieces together, he started to shake his head. "No, no, no, that's not what I meant to do."

"Then what did happen, Luke?" I asked, anger raging through my blood. "Did you just happen to delete the messages, and voice mail?"

Luke looked flustered, his mouth was open but nothing was coming out.

When he did speak, it was barely anything I could hear, "I-I was just protecting you, Ari."

"But you knew I needed to do something, you knew he was going to try and commit suicide, and you still deleted the messages."

He solemnly nodded, only making me angrier. Dillon could of died, and it would have been because of him. Anything probably would have worked, all I probably would of had to done was tell him everything. Tell him that it broke my heart to not be able to see him anymore, and that he deserved life. All I needed to tell him was what was the truth; that he was an amazing boy. He didn't need drugs to glorify what he had. He just needed someone who needed him, someone who could keep him strong. I could have prevented this, if it hadn't been for Luke.

"Fuck you."


"We can't do this any longer."

"What?" Luke's voice cracked, his blue eyes becoming cloudy.

"I-I've stopped..."

"You've stopped what?" he asked, his tone let on that he was holding on to every word I said.

It was one thing being able to say it in my mind, to myself. But, to actually speak it out loud was different. I could feel myself begin to wilt under his stare. The look of sadness, we were only just starting to be with each other again. To experience happiness once more.

"I've fallen out of love with you," the words came out freely and forcefully, something I'd never been able to do.

Luke eyes shown nothing, absolutely nothing. Maybe that's what I wanted, for it to be painless and fast, like ripping a bandaid off. Right as I was about to start thinking that everything was going to be okay, he completely explodes.

"What the absolute fuck?" he screamed, and I swear the hotel shook.

I flinched, feeling a horrible feeling consume me. I didn't love Luke anymore, it was true.

"I don't love you anymore, Luke," I mumbled, unable to look him in the eyes any longer.

I knew that he'd soon be sad, because after he stayed up all night telling me how beautiful I was,I woke up and told him I didn't love him anymore. The longer the silence took over out bodies, the longer I knew I made the right decision.

"A-A-Ariana," He breathed out, his pent up breath releasing, "You don't mean that, right?" He seemed to be going hysterical.

His fingers started to run through his hair nervously, and I could see him start to pace. I grabbed his wrists, and looked him in the eye.

"Luke Hemmings, I, Ariana Queens, am no longer in love with you any longer."

"Stop!" He screamed, "Stop, stop, stop," He started to tear up, covering his ears with his hands. "Please, Ariana, please," his eyes squeezed shut as he started to sob. "Please," his last plea was only a whisper, unable to contain him self any longer.

"W-When we hadn't spoken in days, months actually, I was trying to be okay with that. But I wasn't, my love only grew fonder for you. Okay? I could only wait to hold you in my arms again, and when I did, I felt something click again. You felt it, too, Ariana!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "You were crying for gods sake, our love over powered you, admit it!"

"That was yesterday."

"YOUR FEELINGS CAN'T CHANGE IN DAY!" he raged, kicking he suitcase in anger.

This time I didn't flinch, I didn't feel anything. I only knew that I needed to get out of here, I needed to go back to Sydney. I needed to go shred the skin on my arms and legs because now after not feeling love, I do not feel anything. I thought the only thing I'd ever love was Luke, but it looks like my life is about to take a turn for the worst. I am now no longer in love with a boy, but a blade. One who will be there through the worst times, it may not save me from myself, but it just might grant my wish; death.

Luke grabbed my shoulders and shook my harshly. It took me thirty seconds to regain my balance, "Get your head into this, Ariana," He whispered closely to my face. "Listen to what you're telling me."

"I only told you four times," I scoffed, rolling my eyes with my hands on my hips.

"I love you so much it consumes me, like the wave that sucked me under at the beach on our vacation. Remember? I tumbled, reaching for the surface, gasping for air. That's what I'm doing with out you, gasping for air, barely breathing. Now you're giving up on me, and I'm giving up on myself too. I love you... I'm so sorry, please forgive me."

"You basically just killed a boy, you could have anyway. But, that's beside the point. It would have even been okay if you woke me up and told me what happened. But, instead, you had to go and let him go on with his suicide like he didn't even fucking matter!" I started to raise my voice, and get upset. I wiped my face with the back of my hand, "He means something to me, Luke, and you let him feel so bad about himself, why?" I started to sputter out of control, tears free falling down my cheeks. "You can't make it better, because you brake everything and everyone you fucking touch!"

Luke only stared at me, his mouth actually falling open a couple centimeters.

"You're worse than Midas," I spit, "Yeah, the boy which whatever he touched turned to gold? Because, at least if you were Midas, we'd all be dead and wouldn't have to feel like this!"

I hurriedly threw things into my bag, keeping my vision clear enough to where as I could see. Once everything was packed, I realized that Luke was still only watching me with his mouth ajar.

"Bye, Luke," with that, I just left. I didn't even bother hugging him; would you hug a murderer?

I quickly walked out of the hotel room, jogging down the stairs. The elevator had taken too long, I had to leave the floor. He was only on the third floor, and the stairs were all going down so it wasn't so hard. As soon as I got into the lobby, I bumped into Calum.

"Oh my- I'm sorry," I murmured, trying to get passed him.

"Wait, Ariana, wher- are you crying?" he held my wrists, and looked at me for an answer.

"I have to go," I said, fidgeting, "Please, Calum, I have to go."

He let go, sighing, then looked around for Luke. I went to go talk to their security guard, the one that had lent them the car to pick me up.

"Hello, excuse me?"

The guy just nodded, giving me his attention.

"I-I need the car, or a r-ride, I have to get home, it's an emergency."

He waited for a moment, then started to speak into his blue tooth. "Back to Sydney?"

I nodded, chewing my bottom lip. If this didn't work out, I'd need to find bus routes or something.

"Okay, we'll have a driver for you in ten minutes, please wait out side for him."

I thanked him, then headed towards the exit of the hotel. As I got closer to leaving, where the windows were in sight, I realized how many fans were actually there. I chewed my lip, letting out a frustrated sigh. I composed myself, making sure everything was in check and I had everything in a safe spot. Right as I was about to put my hand on the door, one of the hotel workers scared me.

"You might not want to go out there, there's bunches and bunches of fans."

I nodded, "I know, I've dealt with them, but thank you," I murmured the last part, leaving the hotel.

The sound was excruciating, people were screaming and yelling my name. I tried to smile to them, answer the questions I could hear. I wanted to be nice to the fans, I used to be one of them. I gave as many as I could hugs and pictures. Right as I got out of the sea of people, there was an uproar of commotion, and I saw a blue haired giant above the crowd. Michael was walking towards me, or was he? It was kind of hard to tell where he was going through all the people here.

I quietly watched as Michael got closer, but so did the fans. As he reached me, I was now in the center of hundreds of fans. Somehow, though, I wasn't feeling anxiety. But I knew it was because Michael was here, and I felt safe with him, because we were great friends. Nothing Luke could ever do would lessen my love for Michael.

"What's up with you and Luke?" He asked me, which traveled to my ears only slightly.

But, I knew enough that I could piece it together. We were close, so no one else could really hear, but us. Besides, everyone else was busy screaming and crying that they were so close to Michael Clifford.

"I've fallen out of love with him."

"What?" His voice was obviously straining as I barely heard it.

"I've fallen out of love with him." I stated, once again, but louder.

"What?" He was now shouting, cupping his ear as if it would make any difference.

"I DON'T LOVE LUKE ANY LONGER." I screamed this, scaring Michael as the group of girl seemed to calm down and stare.

He must have realized that it was a wrong idea to ask me in front of the paparazzi and well involved fans. I gulped, turning around and seeing the car that was brought for me. I gave him a small wave, a blush creeping to my cheeks. He shockingly waved back, still shaken by the news I had just spilled.

I hopped into the shot gun fast, careful to avoid any more fans.

"Good evening, Miss.Queens,"

"Hello," I murmured, giving him a polite smile.

We drove in silence for a couple hours, after all, there was nothing to say to this stranger. I was about to fall asleep when my ring tone started to go off. There was only two more hours left until I reached Sydney. Luke's name flashed across my phone. He must be calling me before the show. My breath caught in my throat, and I clicked 'answer'.


"How did you make it to the car?"


"How are you right now?"


"Still? Babe, please I lo-"

"Stop. You need to stop, Luke. Before, you could have broken my heart into a million tiny pieces and I still would have picked then up and put them in your hands. But, things change, and you need to realize that. Go with the flow- you had a whole parking lot of girls who would faint at your glance. You could have anyone in the world, and you're hung up on me?" at first it came out as a question, because I never really knew how lucky I was. But, there was nothing I knew more, in this very moment, that I did not love Luke, "Again, you could have anyone in the world, and you're hung up on me, please, get over me." I guess I really didn't need him to do it now, but at least he could stop bugging me.

"O-Okay," his voice wavered, but was still strong enough for me to understand. "Bye, hope you have a great trip home."

"Hope your concert goes great, best of wishes," I whispered before he said goodbye again hung up.

I sighed, feeling the need to fall asleep. I made myself comfortable and drifted into my dreams, away from my reality.


I entered Dillon's room at roughly 9pm, I knew I would have to leave soon. But, anything was better than not seeing him at all. He was still recovering from overdose and long, deep cuts that covered where his heart should be. There were these little pieces of tape holding together his cut, to heal it. His chest was moving slowly and painfully. I watched him while my cheek was rest on my hand, which was on the bed. My other hand traced the part of his large cut that I could see. I made sure not to press lightly, just trace the air right above it.

"Hmm.. what are you doing?" he asks in a really tired voice.

"Why did you do it?" I whispered meeting his eyes with mine.

"Why did you do it?" he asked, referring to my last attempt, three years earlier.

"I asked you first."

"Sadness," he whispered hoarsely, and I could tell that he was about to tear up, just thinking about how deeply sad he really was.

My fingers twirled with his short hair, trying to calm him. After a few minutes, I began to play with his fingers.

"You know I care, right?" I said, intertwining my fingers with his. "I love you, but I can't stand to hurt you. Because, if you think about it, with every person you date, you're either going to marry them, or move on. Isn't that scary?"

"You take risks for the ones you love."

"I know, I know, you let them go and if they come back they actually love you and what not. Blah, blah, blah..." I mumbled, getting tired of the quotes that were always said.

"I would do it for you."

"I know, and I'm sorry."

We were silent for a few moments, taking in all the words that were never said.

"I'm tired of feeling this way," Dillon spoke up, starting to play with my own fingers. "When will all these sad thoughts fade? I'm tired of feeling like I want to die. I'm killing myself slowly with these ideas."

I kissed his arm, feeling the raw emotion. "I love you so much, but not in that way. It's mostly my fault, though, please. Try to find someone who will hold you up rather than push you down. I love you, please, find someone who will love you as much as you love them. You deserve the best, so find it. It's not me, for, I am not the best."

"Is that because you still love Luke?" He sniffled, avoiding my gaze.

"I told him I didn't love him anymore."


"I no longer have an infatuation, fetish, nor love for Luke Hemmings."

"Then why wont you love me?"

"I do lo-"

"Bullshit. Why wont you love me like I love you?"

"I told you, none of my feelings ever had anything to do with me loving Luke. If I loved like that, I wouldn't have gone to the concert in Melbourne. Actually, I didn't, but I would have if...things hadn't changed."

"Oh, sorry I ruined your night," he sneered sadly.

"That wasn't the dilemma, babe, it was that I didn't love him anymore. I was disgusted by his total presence."

"Why? What made you change?"

"He almost killed someone, someone that means very very much to me," I whispered, holding his hand once more.

"He almost killed someone!?"

"He let you commit suicide, and the Luke I know wouldn't even think about deleting the messages, or let alone listen to the voice mail, then delete it. I don't know what got into him."

Dillon sighed lightly, and I could feel something weird happen, "Do you know why he deleted them?"

"He said something about saving me from what you were doing to yourself," I shrugged, "but that's not true, you don't dictate what I do to myself."

"You should be with Luke," he murmured, turning completely to me.

I gave him a weird look, "What?"

"I love you, Ariana, and I guess I under estimated how much he could love you. It's obviously much more than I could even imagine. I think I knew what he was doing when he deleted my plea's. I was drunk, high and not even in my own mind. Listen, I'm okay. He didn't actually kill me, but he was trying to save you. He tried to save you from what I would have made you do."

"You can't 'make' me do anything," I retorted, before he could get another word in.

"If I smoked, you would have, too, right?" He spoke, making a good point. "We could have laid on my bed and spoke about what was wrong in our lives for hours, and that would have made you go home and cut because you're so sad. It may not be a direct, but it is a change reaction. You might have cut after that night if I went along with it anyway."

"You don't know that."

"When you received the call from the hospital, what was the first thing on your mind?"

How I couldn't save you. How I could have, but didn't because I was so stupid and oblivious to you emotions. "Nothing." I grumbled.

Dillon only weakly smiled, seemingly knowing what I was thinking.

"The hospital's closing, please tell me you will at least think of calling Luke?"

I nodded, giving him a kiss on the cheek and forehead. "I love you."

"I love you, too, goodnight, Ariana."

"Goodnight, babe," I whispered.

"Hey, Ar?"

I turned around, "yeah?"

"Please tell him to protect you like he has, he seems to have been doing a great job so far."

I smiled lightly, knowing that I had a new view on him, but I wasn't so sure it was ever going to be the same as the first one.

When I got home, I went straight to bed. That night I had gone home and got barely any sleep. I thought things had changed, but I spent my night like every other night; staring at my ceiling thinking about Luke.


I woke up around noon, lying in bed. There was nothing I wanted to do, or planned on doing. I knew their concert was in Sydney tonight. Why they hadn't just gotten me tickets to this concert and saved gas and whatnot on getting me out to Melbourne yesterday was a mystery to me. My hands lay on my stomach, feeling every curve and dip. I sighed softly, wishing I could just be what I wanted to be. Maybe I didn't want bones, but I wanted to be... different. I would have better eyebrows and teeth that weren't so... my teeth.

I spent months like this; in my own state of central hatred. With out any source of happiness, I took it out on myself. Cut after cut, pill after pill, each drunken night after drunken night.

I let life pass this way, getting smaller and smaller, getting bloodier and bloodier. Dillon actually saw a few girls, telling me he seemed happier. He was released early January. We saw each other every other week, but neither of us really voice what we were thinking; I was broken. It wasn't because of some boy, either. I didn't have anything to live for, and he seemed to know that.


Michael: hey, there's no pictures of you outside your house, how are you holding up?

Michael texted me this in February, after a month of living off pizza and other stuff. He must have meant no paparazzi captured pictures of me, and I guess they really couldn't have. I've only been inside, dying in my sadness. Though, it did seem like an omen that he was texting me. Today, I thought it might have been the night. I was planning it for a week. It was the perfect day die.

We texted all day, and I actually started to think I had some sort of hope. But then, he told me he had some place to be and he couldn't speak. That's when I knew it was real; I was going to commit suicide tonight.

Michael: goodnight, sleeptight :)

goodbye :)

I typed goodbye, sending it. I lifted my body from the couch, feeling as if a thousand pounds weighed me around. Which was weird, seeing as I felt empty inside. I was going to do it, I was finally going to kill myself. I ran up the stairs, grabbing my pills that I had picked up the other day. They were strong sleeping pills that I had my doctor write a prescription for; that's how you know they're the good ones. I turned on the tv in my room, letting the faucet run. I didn't want it to look like a suicide, because the people close to me would know that. But the others who don't assume that it's a suicide, well, it isn't their business to know. I grabbed a glass of water, emptying the whole bottle of pills into my hand. I watched as an episode of Friends just ended. I popped each pill into my mouth happily, swallowing it with a nice gulp of water.

I knew it wouldn't take into effect right away, I would just know that this is my last night. Forever.

I sat on the edge of my bed for another three minutes, when I heard pounding on the door. It was around ten, so I didn't know who it could be. However, I didn't want to risk it being the neighbors kid, or something, so I walked down the stairs. I opened the door, starting to feel a bit dizzy.

"L-Luke" I slurred, my vision doubling.

He rushed in, slamming the door behind him. "What'd you do to yourself?" He yelled, rushing around like an idiot.

I was already too far. I could feel myself slipping away.

"No, no, no, Ariana, stay with me, please," he begged.

I nodded, moving to his arms. He carried me up the stairs, pratically throwing me on the bed.

"What the fuck did have you done!" he screamed, his face getting red and tearfull

"I'm... Luke... bye.." I slurred under my breath, closing my eyes, feeling tired.

"ARIANA," I could hear Luke's faint scream, then something thrown at me.

I get curiosity didn't kill the cat. I was curious enough to pry my eyes open, seeing that he threw the empty pill bottle at me. Right after I registered that, he threw me over his shoulder and ran to the bathroom. I just lulled around, humming to myself. I heard the sound of running water and all I could hope was that he was going to drown me.


Next thing I know I was soaking wet, in the shower with cold water fill the empty space around us. Luke's arm were pounding around my waist, giving me the hind lick. Soon enough, right in front of me, 24 pills were dissolving into the water. Luke was still screaming and sobbing loudly. My eyes flickered open more, suddenly putting together all the pieces and leaving my sense of shock.

"Luke," I chocked out, coughing on nothing.

He didn't respond, but I could feel his presence. His soaking wet body was hugging me tight against his. The sound of the shower still pounded on my ear drums. I was starting to breath evenly once more.

"H-How'd you know?" I asked, clearing my throat.

Luke was leaning against the back of the tub, me in his lap as I leaned against him. His arms were engulfing me and his cheek pressed up against my shoulder blade.

"Goodbye," he whispered, reciting the text I sent Michael earlier.

"Michael told me to text you from his phone, because I knew you wouldn't answer me."

"Didn't you have a party to go to, or something?" I asked, bitterly.

"You're more important than any party I could ever get invited to."

I was silent, still tired from everything that had happened.

"I remember the first night you told me about how you get those thoughts that haunt you brain, and control your body and that you didn't think you were going to make it through the night. But then, seven minutes later I was banging on your door, begging for you to open the door because the last thing you said to me was 'goodbye' and not goodnight. I remember how scared I was that you were actually going to hurt yourself. I couldn't almost kill another person." He whispered into my ear.

I let a shudder pass through me, remember that night, as well.

"I love you."

He waited for me to say it back, but I spoke nothing.

"This can't happen."

"It has to.''

"We don't even have anything in common," I spoke, finding that as the only reason to not date.

"Love yourself so we do."



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