warning; self harm. some depressive thoughts. 

as something pricks your cheeks, you slowly open your eyes, still feeling groggy. instantly, you snort and sit up, trying to make sense of the situation. "what the..." before you can finish your sentence, something slaps you, and a familiar voice speaks up. "why you still sleepin'? beanpole left, and ya' didn't even say g'bye!" your eyes widen as you recognize the voice.

"what? he's gone? where?" you blurt out, bombarding the small, orange buffoon in front of you with questions. he rolls his eyes at your confusion and frustration. "no, you idiot! he went into town to sell his fhneeds or whatever," he clarifies. you nod, absorbing the information, and without much enthusiasm, you lay back down. the lorax gives you a funny look before speaking up again.

"ay, no! get up! who said you're goin' back to sleep?" he scolds. you let out a groan, feeling the weight of your emotions and the looming dread, but you comply with his demand. "alright! i'm up!" you mumble, and the lorax smiles, satisfied with your response.

"good. i'll see ya outside," he says before leaving. you wait for him to go before standing up and stretching, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. however, as you do so, a wave of dread washes over you once more. you groan and cup your hands around your face, feeling the weight of your negative emotions. this was expected, but that doesn't mean you have to like it. you despise this feeling, this battle within yourself.

with a sluggish pace, you drag yourself toward the bathroom, hoping that the routine will bring some warmth. as you stand in front of the mirror, you can't help but notice the scars on your arms. they serve as painful reminders of your past struggles. you try to ignore them, but they keep drawing your attention, taunting you. taking a deep breath, you start to wash your face, hoping the simple act will help clear your mind. but despite your efforts, your thoughts keep drifting toward the memories that haunt you.

the overwhelming urge to hurt yourself again creeps into your mind, intensifying the struggle within. you desperately try to push the thought away, fighting against the darkness that threatens to consume you. it's hard to resist, and you just give in.

as you hold the blade in your hand, a surge of emotions floods through you. the familiar sting of pain becomes a twisted comfort, a temporary release from the turmoil within. you watch as crimson lines appear on your skin, tracing a physical manifestation of your inner struggles. the weight of shame and self-doubt bears down on you, intensifying with every cut.

"i should stop before-"

"before i come home?"

in that vulnerable moment, a voice interrupts your self-destructive trance. startled, you turn to find once-ler standing behind you, his expression a mixture of concern and sorrow. his presence brings a sudden rush of embarrassment, as if your private battle has been exposed to the world.

"why... why are you home already?" you stammer, your voice trembling with a blend of guilt and desperation.

he takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "things didn't go well, but don't mind that," he says softly, his words filled with genuine care. "we're talking about you."

as he gently takes the blade from your hand, you're struck by the tenderness in his touch. it's a gesture that speaks volumes, conveying his unwavering support and understanding. he leads you away from the bathroom, guiding you to a tranquil stream nearby.

sitting beside the water, he assists you in cleansing your wounds, his actions deliberate and gentle. the silence between you carries both weight and comfort, as if words would only dilute the rawness of the moment. you find comfort in his presence, in the simple act of someone being there for you.

finally, as he hands you a towel to dry off, he breaks the silence. "i know things have been tough for you," he says, his voice infused with empathy. "but you don't have to go through it alone."

you meet his gaze, a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability in your eyes. the fear of judgment and rejection lingers, but the flicker of trust begins to emerge. "i... i don't know how to talk about it," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

he offers a reassuring smile, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding. "that's okay," he reassures you. "you can take your time. just know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

a sense of relief washes over you, a glimmer of hope in the darkness. you nod, grateful for his unwavering support, and find solace in the knowledge that you're not alone on this arduous journey.

"thank you," you say softly, the words carrying a weight that surpasses their mere syllables.

as you make your way back to the cottage, onceler opens up about his recent failed business venture in town. you lend a sympathetic ear, offering words of encouragement and support. you listen attentively, providing a safe space for him to share his frustrations and disappointments.

as you step inside the cottage, the lorax greets both of you with his usual cheerful demeanor, oblivious to the weight that had hung in the air earlier. you try your best to immerse yourself in the conversation, engaging in the lorax's lively chatter. however, your mind keeps wandering back to the morning's events, the guilt gnawing at your conscience.

the sense of hope that onceler's presence had ignited within you still lingers, but the guilt over your own struggles dampens it slightly. you question whether he now sees you as weak or damaged, whether he regrets extending his support to you.

suddenly, onceler's voice cuts through your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. "you okay, y/n?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine concern. you blink, realizing that you've been lost in your own world, staring blankly at your plate for several minutes. you offer a small nod, attempting to force a smile. "yeah, i'm fine. just a little tired, i guess."

the lorax eyes you skeptically, sensing that something is amiss. "ya' sure? you seem kinda out of it," he observes. you try to brush off his concern, not wanting to burden them with your inner struggles. "i'm just not a lunch person," you fib, hoping they will let it go.

onceler, however, sees through your facade. he gives you a knowing look, understanding that something deeper is troubling you. yet, he respects your choice to keep it to yourself for now. instead, he smoothly changes the topic, guiding the conversation towards his plans for the remainder of the day.

after a satisfying lunch, you join the lorax in tackling some of the chores around the forest. engaging in productive tasks and physical activity feels nice, helping to clear your mind from the lingering heaviness. as you work alongside the lorax, you find yourself gradually letting go of the burdens that weighed you down earlier.

the day progresses, and you begin to feel more like your true self again. laughter escapes your lips at the lorax's playful antics, the sound filling the forest with warmth. as the evening settles in, you and onceler embark on a serene walk through the quiet woods. the tranquil atmosphere washes over you, bringing a sense of calmness you haven't experienced in a long time.

breaking the silence, you gather the courage to address the events of the morning. you turn to onceler, and with a mix of vulnerability and gratitude, you express your apologies. his surprise is evident on his face as he responds, "what're you talking about?"

inhaling deeply, you continue, "when you caught me with the blade... i'm sorry. i can't help but think you must see me as messed up or damaged." onceler shakes his head emphatically, dismissing your self-critical notions. "no, no, no. i don't think that at all. In fact, i think you're super brave for opening up to me and letting me be there for you."

a sense of relief washes over you, as if a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. gratitude fills your voice as you whisper, "thank you."

onceler wraps his arm around your shoulder, and you lean into his comforting embrace. in his presence, you feel an overwhelming sense of safety and protection, as if nothing in the world can harm you. he reassures you with his soft, reassuring words, "i'm always here for you, okay?"

with a nod, you acknowledge his unwavering support, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for his presence in your life. for the first time in what feels like an eternity, you dare to believe that maybe, just maybe, things will be okay. 

as the day slowly transitions into night, you, onceler, the lorax, and the barbaloots gather around the crackling fire pit outside the cozy cottage. marshmallows are skewered on sticks and roasted to a golden brown, filling the air with a sweet aroma. laughter and cheerful conversations blend harmoniously with the crackling of the flames. for a precious moment, your troubles fade away, replaced by the warmth of the fire and the genuine camaraderie shared among friends.

as the night progresses and the sky adorns itself with a blanket of stars, you retreat to your bed, seeking solace and rest. however, the scars on your arms and the haunting memories claw their way back into your thoughts, threatening to shatter the peace you briefly tasted. frustration wells up within you as you attempt to push them away, but they persist, unwilling to be ignored. the weight of it all brings you to the verge of a breakdown.

unable to find warmth in sleep, you sit up in bed and take deep breaths, attempting to steady your racing thoughts. it's then that you notice onceler still awake, sitting at his desk with a pen and paper in hand. sensing your presence, he sets aside his work and turns to face you, concern etched across his features.

"can't sleep?" he asks gently, his voice laced with understanding.

you nod, finding comfort in his presence. "everything okay?"

there's a momentary hesitation as you grapple with your response. uncertainty looms, but then you manage to find your voice, "yeah, just not that tired."

onceler's eyes search yours, sensing that there's more beneath the surface. although he remains silent, his expression conveys his genuine concern.

you wave him off and just lay back down, trying to fall asleep again.