Hello friend. Just a little idea that I had. It is actually a perks of being a wallflower imagine that I put on my tumblr. This is set after Charlie kissed Sam instead of Mary Elizabeth. Enjoy!

warning self harm (nondescript), suicide (mentioned briefly)

Dear Friend,

It's been 2 weeks since I last saw my friends. I'm getting bad again. When I say 'bad' I don't mean seeing things. It's much worse than that. I try to participate. I truly do. But living isn't appealing anymore. I'm not living as it is. I'm alive, yes. But being alive isn't the same as living, because living means feeling and I just want to be numb.

I want to speak to my friends again. I attempt to make conversation but they brush it off like it doesn't mean anything. Like I don't mean anything. They say that they're 'busy' or 'aren't feeling it' or sometimes just ignore me entirely. I don't blame them because if I had the choice I wouldn't talk to me either.

Ever since I messed everything up I don't leave the house except to go to school and I rarely leave my room as it is. I avoid conversation with other people, especially my family. I don't go to any of my favourite places anymore. Mainly because the memories they held made me feel and I don't want to feel anymore.

I've just not been normal since they stopped talking with me. I really, truly messed things up. I ruined everything we had. But what Mary Elizabeth said, about us not really being friends, is true. They must not care for me. Because people who care are supposed to see when each other are hurting.

I'm not really functioning anymore. I'm too tired to sleep and too hungry to eat. These mundane activities are mind numbing and that's what I want. But whenever I shut my eyes I see the look of hurt on Sam's face and I can't bare it. When I try to eat my stomach constricts and forces it back up again. I don't know what's wrong but then again I do.

Once, when I was little, I saw my Aunt Helen doing something. She would cut, she said it took away the hurt. I've been trying it since my friends left me on my own. I enjoy watching the delicate red oozing out of my skin. It dulls my senses and that's what I need. It reminds me that I still am alive. The pain is a reminder of what I did to the others.

I have been thinking a lot about Michael recently. About he must have felt. But this time it's different. He could've talked to me. He had people who cared. But I don't, my friends wouldn't care if I told them. I've no one to talk to.

I've written so many goodbye letters. I'll probably never follow through though, however much I want that sweet oblivion. All the letters I have written are sitting on my desk. I've labelled and addressed them. They're ready to be sent when they need to. I've even written one to you. Should the need arise.

Well for now friend,

Goodbye,

Charlie.