A/N: College au.
*Contains Self Harm, Suicidal thoughts and actions!*

Keith didn't know how much longer he could fake it, that it is alright. How much more he could do this on his own, but he had no one to turn to, no one who would really understand the situation or him.

Every night in his mind was a fight and to Keith, he felt like he just kept failing. His mind was becoming the death of him. He knew that he was too young to already want to met death but he didn't see a point anymore. For him, everything was a painful struggle, the fake smiles he plastered on his face, the 'I'm okay' he said a dozen of times, and all the lies he spilled out to hide the very dark and ugly truth.
He was depressed, and his depression was winning this battle...taking his life away from him. 

Keith felt trapped within his world, within his darkness and thoughts. He lost interest in the things that at one point brought him joy, activities that he loved were nothing now to him. He felt hallowed out, completely empty and he had no idea how to fill it back up. He was paralyzed in his depression.

When things began to go wrong, he tried to ignore it. He didn't understand why he felt no happiness all of a sudden but that feeling only grew more and more until he was completely numb and done with his life, done with living.

He could pinpoint the age he was when his depression came to him. He knew the time, the age and how confused he felt, he could also remember the moment he took a blade into his hand and cut his own skin. How it made him feel. His mind couldn't process why he took that blade, and why he pressed it down upon his pale skin but he did it, as if his depression was his puppet master and he was just following his master's movements. The second that blade cut him, that was the second where he had felt something. For him, Keith was so empty and numb that the second that blade touched him and left a small bloody cut was the moment he actually felt something. But what he didn't know in that moment was that it was only the beginning and he had a long road ahead of him with cutting. He had became addicted with that first cut because all he knew was that he could actual feel something, his mind didn't care if it was pain he felt, it just loved the feeling of something, so his mind drank in the feeling that came with cutting. 

At first it was here or there, a cut of two but, over time it became every single day with 5 to 12 cuts. 
Cutting allowed him to feel plus also a way to punish himself for what he believed in. He thought that he was worthless, a mistake and that no body liked him, that he was a burden in his friends lives and that they all would be better off without him. He believed that he was all alone and that things were never going to get better. He wanted help, he wanted to reach out to the ones he loved, in hope that they could save him but it didn't work out.

Keith went to Shiro first. Shiro had always been like a big brother to him, so when he went to him and told him that he was sad and that he may need help...Shiro didn't seem to understand what he was saying, what he was implying. Keith really didn't have a reason or answer to why he was feeling this way but he knew that he felt so lost. But, when Shiro didn't give the help that he desired, Keith pulled more into himself. He couldn't really say what kind of help he wanted or needed, all he knew was that how Shiro acted and spoke wasn't what he truly needed. So, Keith pushed Shiro out, and kept all his darkness and pain deeper within him. 

Over time, everything became so much harder. Things as simple as getting out of bed, taking a shower or eating cause so much energy from him, which Keith didn't have. He hardly slept or he slept way too much. 
Most nights he was up for hours, staring at the ceiling as silent tears rolled down his face. He would curl up into a tiny ball and cry for hours until finally he wore his body out for him to pass out. 

Keith thought about talking to his other friends but feared how they would react or see him, how they would treat him once they knew the truth about him, about his situation. So Keith kept quite and if ever asked how he was, he would simply lie. In the beginning, lying to his friends, the people who were family to him was super hard and he hated himself even more so when he would lie to them but eventually, lying became second nature to him, like breathing air.

What Keith didn't know was his depression was leading him to other issues. He felt so tired all the time but for some reason his mind pushed him to stay awake hours on end. He was now getting stuck with insomnia along with his depression. And with his depression came anxiety and panic attacks. His wrists were now covered in cuts and scars, forcing him to change how he would dress. He would wear long sleeves too often or wear a few bracelets to cover the ones at his wrists. Once he feared that the others might have been taking noticed, Keith began to cut else where. He couldn't just stop cutting, he needed it, he was addicted to the rush and feel he got off it, the ability to calm down and focus after a panic attack. 

And slowly, he was developing an eating disorder. He had always struggled with food since he was a teen, but now finding the energy or time to get food, make it and eat it was exhausting to Keith. So, many days he went without eating a single thing and the days he did eat, his stomach had grown accustomed to hardly nothing that a few bites of something turned his stomach in knots and what he found out was a way to stop his stomach from cramping because he decided to eat something, was to shove his fingers down his throat and purge all that was inside him up. And the sad and odd part of it all was that to him it did help. As soon as he finished puking, his stomach felt better, he felt lighter. What Keith didn't know was it was another thing he was going to become addicted to as well.

He remembered the first time he made himself sick, the first time he purged. Straight after it he had a pretty bad panic attack because it dawned on him that he was getting so much worst. At first it was just being down and sad, but now it was feeling lost and hopeless, cutting to feel something, to punish himself for whatever his mind could think of, to spending days away to now purging.

He recognized within himself the many times he had came face to face with anxiety but now everything seemed to be doubled in size and so much more powerful. Getting out of bed was such a challenge for Keith now, plus trying to maintain and go to all of his classes. 

Slowly but surely, Keith eventually stopped caring his books and things for class. He would have his phone with him and his computer. He finally stopped going to his classes all together but never told his friends that, they all thought he was attending his classes and when he replied to them asking if he wanted to hang out, he would say he had to study or write an important essay and none of them was the wiser. What he did do, was watch movies and shows on his computer, his new distraction was Netflix but eventually that faded as well, with his mind hardly getting any sleep plus him hardly eating, he just couldn't focus or enjoy anything on there. He would arrive at school early and head straight to one of the quite sitting areas he loved so much. There were a few places with an outlet and a comfy couch, which Keith would change his phone, let music play in his ears as he closed his eyes for a bit. He would only sleep for a little bit, someone moving down the hallway or someone sitting on the end of the couch he was curled up on would always wake him up. He often would bring a book with him, open it to a page, highlight a few things that looked like they were important and open up a word document on his computer, type a few things out so if anyone of his friends came by he could appear like he was working on something. 

He stopped going to classes all together and at one point in his life that would have destroyed him. Keith was never very good at school, he struggled on a daily basic with reading, writing and math, etc. but he tried his best and was proud of the little things he overcame. He never skipped class before because when he was younger, he was afraid of getting into trouble, possibly kicked out of school. But now, skipping was as simple as water falling from the clouds above. 

So, his life was built up of: No classes, no socialization, lies, cutting, purging, sleepless nights, suicidal thoughts and feeling hopeless. He felt like he was drowning with all his problems and suffocating at the same time by all his lies.

He was done with all of this, and the only answer his darken mind could come up with was ending his life. He now envisioned suicide as he walked on the side walk, saw a bridge and the thoughts of jumping came into his mind. When he took a bath he would go under the water as long as he could, imagining dying, before coming up for air. Each time he cut, he thought maybe pressing the blade deeper, see how it would feel. He a few times tied his bed sheet around his neck, tied it loosely around the ceiling fan and stand on his tip toes to get the feeling of it.

He was now suicidal and only dark thoughts ran throughout his head.

One day, he couldn't even say why it was this day he actually tried to kill himself it just was. He was always numb and empty. The apartment he shared with his friends who were his family was empty just like how he felt. He didn't write a note, he thought of a few things to say, what he could write down but he really couldn't put down in words how he felt or how to described how all of this came to pass, or how the ones he loved and cared for missed it completely. He loved his friends and in no way was he doing this to hurt them. He was setting them free so they no longer had to deal with him. He was nothing, and it wasn't fair for him to weigh them down and be a burden, a road bump in their lives. He also was doing this for himself, to be finally free of the pain that for so long refused to leave him, that refused to stop hurting him so much. But the pain never stopped and he felt more of it every single day. For Keith felt like he couldn't breathe and some dark part inside of him would whisper to him that he didn't deserve to breathe.

He was done. 

He was so tired.

He was in so much pain, he just wanted it to stop...to end.

So, Keith filled the bathtub up with water. The sound of the water sent a calmness to wash over him for a short amount of time. He then set his computer up to sit on top of the closed toilet seat and pressed a button on the playlist of music that he never listened to before his depression, but now where the only music he let flow in his ears and mind, the kind of music that took a stab at his heart because he understood the lyrics, for they were speaking to him, speaking about him, about depression and wanting it all the end. 

So the music began to play, the tub was filling up with water and Keith looked over at his blade that laid next to the sink. He grabbed it and held it for a moment, feeling the weight of it, it has always felt so heavy to him but now as he was about to bring it down upon his wrists to kill himself it felt ever so light. Keith brought the blade to one of his wrists. He was going to cut one then step into the water, lean back cut the other wrist and just allow the music that was playing to carry him away.

But that didn't happen or go to as planned. 

As soon as he cut deeper than he has every before and saw the rush of blood flowing from his arm, his breath got trapped within his throat. A lyric from a song stood out to him at this very second...

'God is watching over you...he hears you'

Keith wasn't really religious, he went to many different churches growing up, he believed that there was a higher power but he also believed in evolution, the big bang etc.
But in that moment, within that moment of him preparing to end his life, that simple line broke the damn inside him. Keith fell to the floor, tears rushing out of his eyes. His chest hurt as he struggled to breathe due to the panic attack that was coming on full blast. Keith then curled up into a tiny ball on the cold tile floor and cried for hours. He remained curled up in the ball for so many hours. 

After sometime had passed, Keith bandaged up his one arm and slowly made his way towards his bedroom. He never felt this hallowed out before but now he felt like there was nothing left inside of him at all. 

He climbed into his bed and drifted off to sleep. This sleep would last for a while, unlike the other times he slept a day away, this was different. He had zero drive or energy to stay away, he saw no reason to get out of bed, so he remained in his bed for about 2 weeks. Nothing could force him out of his bed and covers. He was lost within it all and didn't know what to do or what was next for him.

Eventually, someone came to his aid. It was Lance, he was very worried about Keith. He was scared to be honest. So he went to Keith spoke a little bit with him and finally managed to get Keith out from under his covers and eventually to a doctor who gave them the answer that Keith knew all alone.

He was depressed.

He had depression and was now getting put on medicine to help him out.

-- I hope whomever read this liked it. It is actually based on me and my first suicide attempt.--