ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕕...
TW: Mature content
"𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙞𝙚, 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙚."
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Lydia Grayson is a popular girl; gorgeous, caring, intelligent, humorous, and a tad bit of a badass; She knows how to party. No one knows about the challenges she faces...
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(This chapter contains explicit detail of self harming)
♢ ♢ ♢
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♢ ♢ ♢
I held the silver blade to my wrist. "You're worthless," I cried as I studied my sickly body in the mirror, my mascara smeared beneath my blown-up red eyes. "You deserve this"
I took a deep breath as a wet tear rolled down my cheek. A sob finally left my lips as the blade slid across my flesh.
"You're not good enough," I reminded myself through my wet eyes as I peered in the mirror at my pitiful self once more.
The blade pierced my skin, finally forcing me to scream.., I did so loudly, unworried about whether or not anyone heard me.
My legs finally went limp and my sobs became audible, I watched the blood drain from my wound and whimpered as I slid down my small dorm room bathroom, feeling the cold surface on my ass as I watched red spill to the floor.
'I can't do this anymore' I sobbed. 'I don't want to,'
"You deserve it," I screamed at myself as I pierced my wrist with the now-stained blade, just beneath where I had previously cut; the blade cut through my raw flesh with a sharp pain.
My eyes were burning, and I couldn't make out anything since everything was blurry. When I looked down at the ground, all I saw was blood.
I didn't have the intention to kill myself but I wouldn't mind if my deep wounds happened to do so.
Despite the blood and intense pain, I kept cutting. Line after line after line. For some sick reason it gave me a sense of relief, giving me some type of pain other than my constant emotional numbness.
I'm not hurting myself because of what Chance said to me, I'm doing it because he's right, and I let myself believe other wise. I believed that he was different, despite all the stories I heard around school about how Chance uses girls for sex and nothing more, there was still a part of me that believed maybe I was something more than just a broken casket. I'm a screwed up no good worthless whore, and he's not the first person to tell me that.
