The Scarlet River

I ran into my room and locked the doors, and I shut the blinds. I slipped my fingers inside my pillow case to pull out my beloved blades. I lay on the floor as I ripped my skin apart. My heart screamed but my soul begged. I cut 56 times, some on my arms, some on my legs and some on my stomach. The blood trickled out, and I felt dizzy, maybe this time it would work, maybe my soul will finally escape with the blood. The dizziness subsided, and I felt normal. Another failed suicide attempt, another day still breathing, and another day of pain. I wiped the blood off my arms and put on a hoodie and sweatpants and walked downstairs to see my mother and get some water. At least it doesn't have any calories, and it will get rid of this dizzy feeling. "Hey Cleo!" My mom called my name from the living room. She doesn't know about my obsession, or should I say obsessions. As you know, I cut. I also starve myself and purge. I have a desire to be thin, and to be pretty. I'm also depressed, and I'm bullied. I really don't know how it could get worse. My dad, my brother and my little sister died in a car wreck, killed by a drunk driver. My dad and brother died instantly, at least they didn't suffer like Samantha. She lost her leg, and her rib cage punctured her heart. The doctor says she was in horrific pain, and even the strongest medicine could't help her. She died in pain, and she died after 4 hours of pain. Ever since then it's just been my mom and I all by our selfs, living in a small apartment. I just want to be normal, THIN and pretty, and it seems like I can't have them all