Baby, Don't Cut

Only one story part. I know its going to be realllyyyy long and really tiring for people who'll read, but please bear with me. This isn't a teen fiction. This isn't a happy story. Its long because I can't exactly prescribe chapters to it. Its in a sequence of events that I Have specified with italics.

A tribute to people who struggle with bullying, with suicidal thoughts and the most common, cutting. I might not provide an accurate account, heck you might think its a farce but one of my friends did this. She laughed it off. She doesn't do it except in extreme cases but still. I've never had these thoughts but i don't brush them off either.

The mind is a powerful thing. Its so powerful that it can make a life-saving decision in a split second.

Or take it away.

Continue, and thanks. Listen to Baby, don't cut by B Mike. It has greatly inspired me for writing this. (Since this is so long it'll be better to play the song on a loop, thanks)

Also, inspiration goes to Freddy and Effy in Skins for this. A true and deep account of cutting. Somewhat similar to it.

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*Before*

She's fourteen, she's young, and she's beautiful to her parents. Her laugh is lively and full of happiness. She's a good student, with perfect grades, and she's excited for high school tomorrow. She has a younger sister who loves her dearly and an older brother who pretends to hate her but everyone knows he's protective of her. However, he is not always there, always with his friends, and finally she is glad that she might be able to see him in school, although he has given her clear instructions not to come to him and embarrass him in front of his friends and girlfriend. Easy instructions, easy to follow.

Tomorrow, a new life as a high school student.

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*6 Months Later*

They ruthlessly push her down in the changing room, so hard that she almost feels like her skull is going to crack from the pressure of hitting the tiles.

Damn these girls who hate her so much.

What has she ever done? They called her fat, from all the baby fat still remaining in some places. They called her ugly. They called her emo, a drug addict, a slut, so much, so much that it hurts. They leave, laughing at how fat she looks in those gym shorts. How she is worthless and how she should just go in a corner and die.

She's getting late, she's missing a class, but all she can do is hide in a toilet stall and cry her eyes out. But crying doesn't help, it only increases the pain in her heart and her head. Earlier, it did. But now? It's like she's become immune to it.

She locks her door and takes out the blade. Two cuts, not too deep but enough that the pain makes the mental pain and heartburn go away. She lets it bleed into the toilet, watching the blood drop and turn the water red, like pretty swirls of art in water. At least some part of her makes things pretty.

Soon the pain is burning, and she wipes the cut, puts a band aid on it before covering it with a tennis band, as she always keeps in her bag.

She doesn't bother washing her face. To them, she'll always be the ugliest person to be alive. And suddenly she hates her reflection. She glares at it.

"Thank you for this ugly piece of shit face, God. Thank you so much." She harshly says before leaving.

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*Sophomore year*