A/N: This idea has been on my mind for a while now. I don't really give a shit if I have three other stories. I know where they're going, when to update, how to write it and all. I just simply need a break every once in a while.

Kay, so basically these chapters will be inspired about posts used on SixBillionSecrets(dot)com using the characters of Shugo Chara!

Because we all know that Life isn't a nice person.

Disclaimer: The dis is used to contradict something. The claimer is used to claim owner ship. And, well, I just disclaimed that own SixBillionSecrets and Shugo Chara. Don't hate, because you don't either.

You know, unless you're Peach-Pit.

I'm Anorexic.

I've barely eaten all year, the only reason I eat sometimes if for my seven year old sister.

Mom, you know something's wrong.

You hear my stomach rumble and notice how I never get up.

I'm guessing you don't care, that's fine by me.

As long as you stop calling me fat.

Amu stared at the plate of chicken and rice in front of her in disgust, even though her stomach growled, begging for the savory flavors to explode in her mouth.

But she wouldn't have any of it. She wasn't about to gain a pound or two from a piece of chicken when she had just lost 24 pounds and 4 inches in her waist in the past two months.

No. She couldn't. She couldn't have it. She didn't deserve it.

If you eat, you'll get fat.

She heard the voice clearly in her head, on the voice belonged to her mother, who was praising her younger daughter, Ami, for getting a golden sticker on her spelling test.

Amu made a small move to get a piece of chicken and bit her lower lip. Her mouth was salivating for the food, salivating to end the hunger she had.

She wanted to eat.

But she wasn't about to eat.

No, she just needs her mom to see how pretty she is. How pretty her daughter would be if she was thin—no, skinny. She wanted her rib cage to show.

"Amu?" Ami called for her older sister. Amu looked away from the cooked meat and up at her little sister. "Aren't you going to eat?"

Amu snuck a glance at her mother, who was looking at her expectantly.

"Yeah." She muttered, grabbing her fork and grabbed a small piece of chicken and stuffed it in her mouth.

It was most definitely the best damn chicken she ever had due to her starvation.

"Don't have too much," Amu's mother grabbed a piece of her own chicken, "You'll get fat."

Amu stood up, "I'm sorry, I'm not really hungry right now."

The only reason I didn't kill myself tonight is because I remembered the look on your face when you saw the cuts on my hip.

I won't do anything ever again to keep you from smiling.

It lights up a room.

"Ikuto…" She traced the slashes on my hip with her forefinger gently. It only tickled, but I flinched. Nobody had ever been this close to me. Let alone seen the cuts I had.

The look on her face was horrified, despair, sympathy, melancholy, depressing. It was a mixture of sad emotions.

Sad for me.

I put my shirt back down quickly.

"Please don't tell anyone," I asked pleadingly, "They can't know."

Amu looked at me and hugged me loosely—an obvious attempt to not hurt the fresh cuts. "I love you too much to tell anyone."

I hugged her back. "I'm glad."

She smiled at me, a true genuine smile. It was a smile that was soft, and it made me cry. I couldn't help it. I just cried, holding onto her, and she held on back.

"I want you to stop depending on your body for relaxation," she told me, "and to depend on me."

Those words, that memory, that voice was enough to stop me as I held the gun in my hand.

"Leave your body out of this, use mine instead."

"But I'll hurt you."

"I don't think you will."

"I can."

"Just as long as you get better."

I wasn't going to kill myself—no.

Amu Hinamori is too nice to have a reason to frown over a mess like me.

"Then you're my beautiful mess."

My secret is something happy.

Shouldn't we all have happy secrets once in a while? I painted a picture for a girl in my school. That was the first time I've ever seen her smile.

She and I are now really close. She told me I saved her from suicide. I'm so glad I didn't go through with it.

Her smile was the equivalent of angels dancing on her face, her eyes, her lips.

I loved the fact that I made her happy when I first saw her smile.

I loved the fact that I can be the one who makes her happy.

I loved the fact that she was the girl I saved.

I love the fact that she's the most beautiful girl in the world.

I love the fact that she's in her wedding dress, blushing, hiding, smiling at me.

"Do you, Nagihiko Fujisaki take Rima Mashiro to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Is what the crowd heard. But Instead, I heard, "Do you, Nagihiko Fujisaki, take Rima Mashiro to be the girl you saved and marry her?"

"I do."

"And that's how our wedding will be like." I told Rima, Rima tucked a blonde strand of hair behind her ear and scoffed.

"You really think you're going to marry me just because you painted me a picture?" She asked.

I nodded. "I saved your life too."

"I saved something for you too."

"What would that be?"

"My first kiss."

"You may now kiss the bride."

And I bent down, she leaned up, and our lips met.

I have an intense fear of aging, and it's not just the thought of having wrinkles.

Just thinking about going to college in a few years, or ever getting married and having kids sends me in a mini-panic attack.

My secret?

I never planned to live past the age of 18. I have one year to go.

"Your kids will be so cute, Rima!" Amu squealed at the short blonde. Rima blushed.

"Shut up." She said. "Yours will be just as adorable."

Amu blushed in return and pointed at Utau. "What about her and Kukai? Knowing them, their wedding will be the wedding of a lifetime."

Utau laughed, "I'm already planning!"

I laughed, they think it was such a joke, the way they think kids, weddings, and just getting older was a nice time.

It all scared me.

Everyone asked me why I act like a kid.

The first thing I say is that it's fun.

But really, I think of growing older is a nightmare. Having kids who just need, need, need. Or getting married, and expecting so much, but you get nothing. And aging? It makes you see what you did wrong when you were younger. It seemed like such torture to endure it all.

"What about you, Yaya?" Amu asked. I looked up at the pinkette. "Who do you want to get married with?"

I got nervous.

"With anybody Yaya loves!" I shouted, a smile plastered on my face, "And to anybody that loves Yaya back!"

Amu, Utau, and Rima gave me a smile.

"Then it won't be that hard to find the right person, will it?" Utau asked.

I nodded in agreement.

But I completely disagreed. It could only be easy if I found that person before I turned 18.

I had 187 days left.

I'm thirteen years old.

I have depression, OCD, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, two eating disorders, and I cut.

I wish so much that I could be a kid again and not have anything to worry about.

Dear God, did Amu hate food. She hated eating it, and she hated the way it came out.

She didn't like to eat, but when she did, she barfed it up in the toilet.

She's scared that she can never make her parents proud, so she turned into a perfectionist.

She gets scared every time someone gets close to her.

She would kill herself is she was always this sad.

She would use her body for her own ridding-of-the-sad.

Her parents didn't need to know that she had the urge to get an even haircut, just to make her seem normal. Her parents didn't need to know that she and food weren't very good friends. Her parents didn't need to know that she's scared of people. Her parents didn't need to know how sad she became, and how she vents. Her parents didn't need to know she was about to kill herself.

With the blade in her hand, and her wrist full of cuts—all avoiding her vein—she gripped the metal tighter.

She placed the sharp end of the blade on her light-skinned wrist, ready to cut.

"I want to die a kid." She chanted.

She repeated it over and over again, tears blurring her vision, sweat tickling her face, nervous erupting in her stomach, and arms around her waist.

A hand reached to Amu's wrist—which was frozen—and nicked the blade away from her.

Hair tickling her face, she leaned and sobbed into Ikuto.

She just wanted to be a kid again.

A/N: How'd that go? Keep or delete? I kind of have an act to make people suicidal and depressed *cough* NineLives *cough*.

But I REALLY couldn't stand the thought of Amu killing herself. I just had to add a bit of Amuto there.

So, R&R? Keep or delete? Fave? Alert? Like?

Any of the above would be nice and appreciated. Especially reviews. GAWD I love them.

Well, if you're going to review, which one, if any, relates to you most? Which one did you like? Which needed more work? Which was just plain sad?