the heartless girl/ wristless Jane

What a wonderful life.

I wake to the sound that brings me pain every day. Spit flies everywhere, landing on my face, hair, bed, and clothes. "WAKE UP YOU LITTLE PIECE OF TRASH" I slowly try to get out of bed, but my mom punches me (almost as hard as she can) in my face. "I thought you wanted me to get up." "Shut up trash." I quickly get up and run past her into the bathroom, avoiding another hit. "you cant hide in there forever you know. You have to eat." these fears swirl in a vault of black nothingness, banging on the steel walls, wanting to help me feel something, anything at all. "i know about your little secret. You've been cutting yourself, haven't you?" My mom laughs as if she is enjoying my pain, which I don't doubt . "keep up the good work baby girl, soon you'll be gone and i wont have to pretend to like you." My mom say in a voice that makes me shiver. Just then my phone vibrates. "oh good. Maybe John will help me feel better." the text says: "I've found someone else. I'm breaking up with you." I throw my phone at the wall and watch as the little piece of what kept me alive shattered, and fell to the floor. I take out my paintbrush and paint a beautiful crimson picture, though, the brush is a razor and the canvas is my wrist. I sit there watching my wrist gush blood on to the floor, creating a puddle faster than usual. "good. Maybe I wont survive this time." I think.