Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Over and over again these words repeat in my mind, yelling... no... Screaming for the pain of just a cut, even a little one would do. Sometimes I wonder how I got into cutting, how these thoughts found themselves into my head, I'll never know nor do I think I want to know. It could've been the bullies... Or maybe it was the lack of support from those who I was there for but they weren't there for me. Most times I just didn't know why to do... It was a blur to me, cutting, feeling the relief from it, going and coming from school just seemed strange to me. It's like I can barely remember it and I..... I don't know why to do. Maybe it's just me trying to get through life without having to see pained looks from people who know or just not wanting to be there at all.
YOU ARE READING
My suicide story...
Teen FictionI don't know why I would, but I figured that I'd write down what I've been feeling. So read if you will, it might be sad and it might just make sense, who knows... Enjoy my thoughts I suppose.
