Warnings: sad, mentions of suicide
*283 words(BELOW)*
Jay ran into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it. He turned to the counter and rummaged through the drawers, searching for something.
"Come on, come on! Where is it!?" Jay was panicking for a moment or two before his hand glided across a sharp object. He pulled his hand back, revealing a small cut on his pointer finger. The teenager reached back into the drawer for the item, eventually pinching it between his pointer and thumb.
In his hand, he produced a razor. "Yes! Finally!"
The boy pivoted on his heels and moved to sit on the edge of the bathtub. "After this, I'll never have to hear their bullshit again. I'll never have to put up with their taunts and teasing. I'll never have to feel their hands against my chest as they shove me backward into the wall," Jay paused for a moment before adding on, "and, they'll never be able to see me, or be bothered by my presence ever again. They'll never have a reason to complain anymore. Because I'll be gone forever."
He raised the thing to his arm and was preparing to slide it across his skin when suddenly, he retracted his hand holding the razor. "N-no. Y-you're better than t-this, Jay. You can't let them get to you," he sniffled quietly to himself with tears streaming down his face.
"You can't let every little comment tear you down, or every violent push keep you down. You can't listen to everyone's thoughts and you can't please everyone in the world. You just need to learn to live and survive and avoid all the haters, abusers, fakes, thieves, and mean people in this world."
"You can't let this be your end."
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ActionThe writer scolded herself. "How could you be so stupid? I mean, to think anyone would want to actually read this? What's wrong with you?" "Nothing!" she defended. "It's perfectly normal to do this! Writing is often used to express opinions and fact...
