The Magic In This World

My Story

Warning! This chapter has some serious triggers and language!
  Everyday, when I get home, I cut. I feel overwhelmed until I do. Like all the pain in the world is pressed up against me and can't escape no matter how I sit or which way I turn. There is simply no way out. Cutting lets the pain go for me.
  Everyday I wake up and hope this is the day I have the guts to end my life. Not for me. For my parents, who never even wanted me. For Tina, who was probably tired of me. For Ty, who would have a better life if my parents had one less mouth to feed. For Colby, even. Getting assigned to help someone like me.
  Someone slammed on the bathroom door. Then I heard someone cry out. My mom. The only reason I go to therapy is that it was court ordered. Without that, I could've done anything and my parents wouldn't have cared. Even if my mom does claim she cares.
  After I clean up I stay in the bathroom. I brought my homework so I wouldn't have to leave until bedtime. Also a book. I wish I was strong like the characters in my book.    But I wasn't. I was weak. And everyone knew it.
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  Colby walked up to me grinning. My mom had just dropped me off. Instead of going to my usual office to be grilled with questions I was going to grilled with questions on a hot summer day sitting on a bench in front of the building. Great.
  He took my hand. "Hi." he said. "How are you?" I shrugged. He grinned. "Well," he said and suddenly frowned. I realized his hand was on my wrist. I was wearing a a long sleeved shirt. It was the beginning of June. His frown deepened. "Morgan, show me your wrists." I shook my head. He grabbed my hand and gently pulled my sleeves up.
  He frowned, his eyes full of sorrow. Everyone felt sorry for me. Every single fucking person. Maybe I didn't want to be felt sorry for. Maybe I thought what I was doing was for the best.
  "I don't want your pity." I snapped at him. He looked shocked for a second and-hurt? He recovered almost instantly.
  "Fine," he said. "But give me one good reason. One good reason to do that to yourself. Then I can stop. I won't even have to talk to anymore. That's what you want, isn't it?" I thought.
  Then realized that it was what I wanted. I wanted people to leave me alone about Drew, my parents, Ty, who I practically raised despite his down syndrome. So I told him everything. All the while, he looked like he was doing a puzzle, sifting pieces together. At the end of it all, he sighed. "Morgan, I can't keep my promise. I knew that you had bad stuff that had happened to you, but I didn't know it was this bad. I have to keep helping you."
  I understood. I never really expected him to keep the promise. I just needed someone to talk to.