What would i do without you?

Chapter 1

A/N: this is my first story so it's probably gonna be really bad and literally no one is gonna read it but oh well. i'm not sure how often it's gonna be updated as my school starts again, but i will try and update as much as i can. enjoyyyy :)
lots of TW so i'll try and point them out but sorry if i miss any.
TW: ed, sh, abuse, depression,
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BEEP,BEEP,BEEP
"fuck,where is it" i mumble to myself as i frantically search around for my phone, trying to turn my alarm off. i picked up my phone up off the floor and turned it off before my dad hears. normally my parents would hear my alarm and either beat me till unconscious or until they were satisfied that they'd left enough marks on my thin, frail body. But to be honest it varies everyday. some days they don't hear it like today, thank god but when they do i turn into a punching bag.

i made my way towards my closet to pick near enough the same outfit i wear everyday. That consisted of a grey hoodie,black ripped jeans and my checkered vans. i was in desperate need of new clothes but my parents didn't give a shit about me so that's wasn't gonna happen anytime soon. i brushed my messy y/h/c hair and put it in a middle parting.

I headed to the bathroom to go and brush my teeth, when i looked in the mirror my thoughts soon came back  'your so fat' 'everyone would be so happy if you just died' 'no one would even notice you were gone' these were my daily thoughts, they kind of turned into a routine for me, get hit, get ready for school, hate my self then harm myself. it was sort of a day to day occurrence for me. i searched around for my razor blade. i wanted to do it. no. i needed to do it.

"for fuck sake where is it!"
"are you looking for this, you piece of shit?" my mom spoke, holding the shiny piece of metal in between her thumb and index finger, her other hand occupied with the half empty bottle of vodka.
"i-uh"
"SPEAK UP!" my mom yelled making me flinched. to say she did this everyday i still wasn't used to it.
"y-yes." i muttered.
"we'll then what are you waiting for? go on do it, no one cares!"
I hesitantly approached my mom taking the razor blade out of her fingers, tears rolling down my face.
"DO. IT."
I rolled up my sleeve staring at my old and fresh scars that covered my arms. it was hard trying to find new places to cut, i first started cutting when i was 11, it was like my way to escape reality. it made me feel relieved, like all my thoughts were gone. that my headspace was clear. i took the blade and made 6 deep cuts into my arm making all the pain vanish into thin air.

"stupid bitch!" she slurred as she stumbled down the hallway, away from the bathroom. i wrapped my arm in bandages and ran downstairs to get out the door as fast as i could when i suddenly someone kicked me in the back making me tumble down the stairs.
"WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOUR GOING SLUT!" my dad yelled, knuckles turning white as he clenched into his beer bottle.
" i-i was j-just heading to school."
"DON'T GIVE ME ATTITUDE!"
"s-sorry"
"sorry who?" he questioned
"s-sorry daddy" that name knocked me sick. he didn't even deserve the title of a dad. that word just brought back all the times he raped me. he only did it 3 times but still what fucking psychopath decides to stick their dick in their daughter!  
"get your ugly fucking face out of my house now!" he yelled as i stormed out the door.

i didn't live far from the school. it was about a 10 minute walk. i could barely walk, constantly tripping over my own feet. My body was aching, my arm was really sore from my cuts, i didn't even realise that i was crying at this point. as i approached the tall white building, i wiped my tears, looking at my schedule to see what classes i had. Today's classes i had  biology,maths and double english. i know shit day right.

none of my teachers liked me and i didn't like them so the feelings were mutual. i headed towards my first lesson, biology. i fucking hated biology, i just didn't understand half of the things Mr Johnson would babble on about, what didn't help the situation was that we did not get on well,like at all.