It's Not Fair

As Dream laid on his bed, he stared up at the ceiling fan, watching as it slowly came to a stop. The old and tired wood gave a feeble squeak before becoming still. Dream felt an aching tiredness sweep over his body, draining all the remaining energy he possessed. He was sick of it, sick of the pain that tortured his broken heart. But what could he do to make it stop?
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Cover art and characters do not belong to me. Mentions of self-harm, depression, dark thoughts, eating disorder, etc. Read at your own risk :)

EDIT: OH MY GOSH OVER 1 K READS THIS IS AWESOME TYSM! WHAT THE HONK!?