My goal in this FanFiction, is to put you through heartbreaking situations, nasty choices, and gruesome characteristics. I will be forcing you to be in the shoes of a person who does impeccable, disgusting, inexcusable things to themselves and even others.

My goal is to make you uncomfortable, make you feel sick, make you hate and love. From the vivid descriptions to the horrific words being said, you will feel more involved in this story than any other of mine. You will feel like you're there. But you're hopeless.

You will fall in love with character's. You will feel empathy and remorse for others. And you will hate a selected few. This is all being done for a few simple reasons. A few reasons that could change the way you think about some in your actual lives.

Throughout this FanFiction, you will learn new things, see old things, and try different things. Keep your mind open and possabilities broad. Just know that this will never be over. I will be putting everything in this novel I have seen, heard of, or thought about. Even when you're done reading, it will cross your mind. 'Why' you may ask? Simple.

You will hate Y/N with everything in your gut. But I wish to give you a warning for a few things. First, the horrific descriptions that will be given. The disgusting choices the character's make. And triggers such as: suicide, self harm, shaming, and homicide. Do not read if you're easily triggered or bothered.

I don't know what else to tell you other than read at your own risk. Because, I for one, will know I will get triggered writing this. But this is all for a purpose. And that purpose will be revealed as the story goes on. I hope you're ready. Because I am.

This story starts off very strong. Read at your own risk. DO NOT read if you're easily triggered, or gruesome descriptions/thoughts bother you. I really don't want to be flagged because you did something you knew wasn't a good idea. Thank you. I can't stress this enough. But this FF is very not okay. This part contains: suicide, self harm.

Ahn Y/N sits in the bathroom, a cigarette in her left hand. The ash is about an inch long, and a pile is on the floor below the still lit end. She is shaking, but not too violently. She is still able to control herself to a certain degree.

Wrapped around the top of her bicep in a bandana, and it is wrapped tightly; almost cutting off the circulation to her left arm and hand. Her skin on that arm is slightly purple and is very cold.

To her right is the sink; a white sink. Mold and black mildew covers the sides. On the sink is an ashtray, a needle hanging off the side of it. Inside the needle is a foamy liquid. It was whitee and bubbly; almost as if chemicals were still mixing within it.

A few more needles were on the sink, but they were already empty. They had already been used. Besides those were a few pill capsules. They were cracked open, the white powder all over the counter and the floor. And some in the needles.

Y/N's eyes are black, purple bags are apparent under each one. They are bloodshot and glassy. Her heart rate is slow and her breathing is rigid. The sixteen-year-old girl is too far gone to know anything. She doesn't remember her own name at this very moment.

She drops the cigarette on the white tiles and she uses her right hand to grab the needle in the ashtray. She then grips it tightly as she brings it to her lap. Her mouth is open, and her breathing starts to get heavier; her eyes are hooded.

She can't keep them open. And she starts to shake uncontrollably now. The needle drops to the ground and she bends over some, her heart starting to burn. Her blood starts to turn ice cold, causing her head to snap back up.

She moans lightly, her head starting to swirl in pain as a migraine starts to build up within her. It feels as if something is hammering her head to a board with a large metal mallet. And then, just like that, she loses all control.

Her mouth starts to foam as the drugs and alcohols within her start to combust, eating away at her body. The foam is white and thick and milky as it falls from her mouth and onto her lap; instantly burning her skin.

Just like that, she falls off the toilet and to her left, landing in her tub with a large thunk echoing through the small bathroom. Her head smashed against the side farthest from her, causing her body to crumple within the small diameter of the tub.

Her legs start to shake, as they're outside the tub. She is bent across the edge of the tub, her pelvis on the edge, her chest on the tub, and her face smashed against the side; foam still coming from her mouth, even more so now.

The shaking doesn't stop. Nor the convulsing. She starts seizuring. Shaking uncontrollably, her legs hit the sink, knocking the ashtray to the ground along with needles and powder from pills.

Her left arm is even more purple and cold now. And her eyes are turning milky white but they are glowing red. She is pale now, far from her natural skin color. The sixteen-year-old girl had succeeded in what she wanted to do. She had reached her goal.

She had killed herself.

READER WARNING: At the beginning of every part that has even the littliest thing, I am putting a warning. This contains SOME violence about being beaten and self defense. Do not read if you cannot handle the small things. I just want to make sure nobody starts to get hurt or feel bad due to reading this. Read at your own risk.

(Six Months Earlier)

"Y/N, get out here now!" A voice filled the restrictions of the trailer, and the voice was full of anger. The voice came from an older woman, in her early sixties, but she most definitely did not act her age.

The girl whom she called was sitting in her room on the phone in a corner furthest from the door, which was shut but it didn't have a lock. If it did, you could bet everything that it would be locked and never would be unlocked.

That's how much Y/N hated her family.

The sixteen-year-old couldn't stand to be around them, much less live with them. Her whole life she was treated unfairly, beaten to the ground, and locked away in her room. She had it rough and she knew that. She knew it better than anyone.

Her whole life, Y/N couldn't hurt a bug, much less a person. But she had such a deep rooted hatred for her grandmother that, at times, she felt as if she could kill her. And the more she acted on that anger, the worse her homicidal thoughts got.

It was never-ending. The pain this simple girl felt was horrendous.

Through all the pain which she endured, she'd ran away multiple times, tried to constantly kill herself, and was sent away twice to mental and behavioral institutions for troubled teenagers. But she wasn't troubled. Not at all. She was challenged and not mentally. But physically, emotionally, even spiritually.

She had no clue what she believed in, what she loved, or where she stood with humanity. It was all confusing to her.

Another scream erupted throughout the house, "Y/N! NOW!" The voice boomed.

But Y/N wasn't scared anymore. She didn't want to back down anymore. She wanted to stand up for herself and what she believed in. She was tired of being stepped on and used and abused and ignored. She was done with it all.

Her family meant nothing to her, not anymore. Nobody helped her even though they saw the pain which she was enduring - it was as if they didn't care. And that didn't bother her. What bothered her was that they'd been through it. And they didn't try to get her out of it.

Y/N didn't stand up as she looked at the phone in her hands. She looked at Google Chats, hoping her friend's would somehow respond. Hoping that they'd answer her after what just happened in the kitchen of her trailer home.

But no messages came through.

She felt all alone all at once and it struck her like lightning. However, even through all the sadness and despair that she was feeling, she couldn't seem to make the tears fall. Instead, she felt hot and heavy, like unwanted airplane baggage.

Her lungs burned from the deep breathing which she was doing, trying to keep herself calm and not explode again. Not after the large heated argument which took place just minutes before. She couldn't go in hot headed, not again.

She didn't trust herself.

Y/N looked at her phone as it went off, hope appearing in her eyes. Once she read who the message was from, she felt elated; almost like something was lifted from her.

Kim Taehyung: Hey are u ok?? What's going on?

Y/N almost started crying then. Taehyung had been her best friend for almost three years now. They had met Freshman year and now they were Juniors. They had grown close, even through the many fights which they had. And the heartbreaks.

Y/N wasn't too sure what to message back. Her thumbs danced across the keyboard, but no letters were typed. She didn't know how to respond. How to explain what was going on. And then it came to her.

Ahn Y/N: I can't stay here, Tae. I just can't. We're fighting and I don't know what's going to happen. But I'm done. I give up. I can't live like this anymore.

She sent the message and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She heard someone coming. She could hear them stomping through the house. They wanted to make themselves known. They wanted Y/N to feel intimidated.

However, that wasn't how Y/N felt.

The anger within her just seemed to fuel even more than before. Her face was turning pale from the anger which was surging through her. She started to shake and her heart started to race.

She felt hot but she couldn't muster up any sweat. Water in her body seemed to just disappear, like she couldn't create it.

She was steaming now. Hatred surging through her. A listing of revenge then crossed her mind as she stood up, looking at the door, gripping her phone tightly in her hand. She wasn't putting up with the abuse anymore.

It was time for her to fight back.

Then her door flew open and her grandmother appeared.

Her door hit a shelf that was on the wall, causing it to fall down behind the door, her books and papers scattering across the ground behind the door and to the side slightly. The trailer seemed to shake with the sudden gesture.

"Get your *** out here, now." Her grandmother yelled at her again, wanting her to obey her every command. She treated her like a dog, even now.

Y/N then looked her dead in the eyes, "No."

Her grandmother then surged forward and to the left to dodge her bed. She got right up in Y/N's face, trying to get her to back-up against the wall, "You're to do as you're told. I am an adult, not you. Now, OUT!" She then grabbed Y/N's arm, trying to pull her down.

But Y/N pulled back, stepping away from the mad woman. She then pushed her grandmother away from her, trying to get space so she could breathe different air.

Her grandmother, out of a fit of furry, then spurred forward, ripping at Y/N's air, quickly taking her to the ground before the young girl could do anything to stop it from happening.

Her phone went off.

Her grandmother started yelling at her as she started ripping out her hair and beating on her head. She started to drag her on the floor around in her room, "Don't ever talk back to me, you little ***!" The woman was crazy; driven by anger.

YN didn't want to hit her. She wanted to do anything but hit her.

Even with all the hate fueled towards this woman, even through the homicidal thoughts and actions, she didn't want to lay a hand on her. She knew that would do no good. She knew nobody would believe her side of the story.

Nobody ever has.

"You're a fucking child!" She continued beating on Y/N as she dragged her across the floor, "You are to do as I say and nothing else! Do you understand me?"

Y/N could hear her brother in the next room talking to his buddies on his gaming PC. He knew what was happening. He always knew what was happening. But he never acted to help his sister. Instead, he went against her. He fueled that fire. He gossiped about her. He spread lies and rumors.

He meant nothing to her either. Not anymore.

Y/N then stopped letting her body be thrown around once she heard her grandfather enter the house. He had heard the commotion and was coming to see what was conspiring. And once he heard his wife's screams, you could hear him start to run.

Y/N's relationship was off and on with the man. He'd help her, but only just enough to where she wouldn't get thrown out or beat up completely. After that, he was just done with her. He took sides with his wife and didn't question it. And he acted like such a nice guy in front of people. But, the truth is he'd hit Y/N too. And he'd use the excuse of PTSD so he'd get away with it.

His wife would say the same, protecting him from anything that could possibly happen if Y/N leaked the truth.

But that was over now. It didn't matter. Y/N was never believed.

In a matter of a second, Y/N was on her feet, snapping her head back away from her furious grandmother, ripping out even more of her long, dark brown hair. It flowed past her butt and it was as slick as a foxes coat.

Y/N then did the only thing she could to get the woman away from her without fully hitting her. She kicked her in the stomach as hard as she could, hoping for the woman to back down.

But she didn't.

She came at her harder, "How dare you hit me, you little ***!" The woman shrieked, jumping on top of her again. This time, she started slapping her, clawing her, biting at her.

And then her grandfather came into view at the doorway, his eyes wide at what he was witnessing. And the first thing he saw was Y/N kicking his wife in the stomach, causing her to fall back into a bed post, breaking it right in half.

The bed wiggled but it didn't fall. The middle just slightly caved in.

"Theresa, that's enough!" The man raised his voice but it wasn't a yell. However, he knew talking wasn't going to do anything. Yet he did it anyways.

Her grandmother, Theresa, charged her again, pushing her back into her dresser, causing it to slam against the wall.

Y/N's breath left her body as her head crashed into the handle, immediately drawing blood.

And then her grandfather finally grabbed his wife, pulling her back, "That's enough!" He screamed now, throwing his wife out the door and standing in the way so she couldn't get past him. He then looked at Y/N, anger in his eyes, "Stay in here." He then shut the door.

Her phone went off again.

Y/N just stood there, breathing heavily as she did so. Everything in her body seemed to fail. Nothing seemed to work. Her anxiety was through the roof. She couldn't breathe. Her head started to pound as the blood dripped down her neck and down her back. She was wearing a white t-shirt and blue gym shorts. The blood was very noticeable.