Lost (Kellic)

Chapter 1

Kellins POV

This is never how I pictured my life would turn out to be. I'm in my senior year of high school, I pictured myself partying and going out with friends. But that all changed when I became a freshman.

I was the kid who loved to wear band shirts and black skinny jeans to school. I never used to stop listening to music and was always showing people all these amazing bands. That was until only 1 week into my freshman year when a new guy started. Called himself Ronnie. I'll never forget that name, it'll haunt me beyond the grave.

It was him who took one look at me and decided he was going to make my life a living hell. And he did. It started with little name calling, but that didn't affect me because I had a few friends to laugh it off with. Then It turned into a rare minor beating. That hurt but it wasn't very often so again I could deal with it. But then the beatings got more regular and my mood got shittier and that was when I caved.

Christmas time, junior year. That was when I lost all my friends because they were too embarrassed by me, but it was also when I made my first cut. This topic had been on my mind a lot lately with the bullying and my parents were aware of the bullying and would comfort me and help me to wipe the blood off myself. But that wasn't enough at 3am when I was all alone in my room with these voices in my head telling me constantly how worthless I am. So I made my first cut. Thinking I'll just do a few, they weren't even deep, but I'd tell myself that I could control this. And I really believed I could. Just a few cuts every now and then when life gets a little too much. I can do this.

Well I sure as hell couldn't do it. The cutting got more regular and the cuts got deeper. More dangerous. Over the summer before senior year started I began cutting so deep to the point i pass out but without killing myself. Or if I didn't even have the energy to go to the blade and went with the sleeping pills and pain killers. They were always a good knockout.

Now here I am, February senior year. My body is unrecognizable. I'm covered from head to toe in bruises, black, blue, red, yellow. You name the colour you'll find it on me. My thighs, stomach, and both my arms are smothered in burns, some healing other fresh and cuts, again some healing some fresh. My arms are the worst. Nobodies seen them though, my parents knew I'd just be bruised under my clothes so they never looked. They were never neglecting just had other things on their minds.

I came home from school early today. I got 2 beatings before 1 o'clock and they were the worst I've ever had them. So I made my final decision. The thoughts been floating round in my mind for a few months now but today had made me realize I really am nothing. Nobody wants me, nobody needs me, I'm disgusting, fat, worthless, failure. Tears pour out my eyes as heavy sobs shake through my body, shaking me throughout.

I get up off my bed and walk into my bathroom I turn on the bath taps and run nice warm bath. Crying hysterically I take off my clothes leaving me only in my briefs. When they find me I want to have some decency. I feel bad for letting my parents find me, but I'm sure they'll get over it. I pick out all my blades I've collected over time and line them up alone the side of the bath tub. Walking back into my bedroom I find my bottle of vodka, bottle of sleeping pills and a my bottle of painkillers, placing them next to the bath also. Turning off the taps I then climb in the tub and relax for a moment in the warm water. Peacefully I pick up one of my average blades, nothing fancy and start cutting my thighs. Nothing deep just satisfactory. Once they're covered and there's no more space to cut I move onto my stomach. Again same as my thighs, nothing too deep and once it's covered I move onto my arms. Covering them to the point where I'm content with it I put my blade down back on the side of the bath.

This time I pick up the vodka and the pills, placing a handful of sleeping pills into my mouth followed by a long swig of vodka I go again, another handful until the bottle of sleeping pills is empty. I move of to the painkillers now, again taking a handful only when I take these I have to try not to be sick and force them down. But they go, along with the rest of the pills and I finish off the half bottle of vodka. Feeling the effects immediately I go on to the part I was most looking forward to. The artwork that counts.

I pick up my sharpest and favourite blade and place it on my right wrist, creating 3 critically deep slashes along my wrist in a diagonal format. With my blood positively squirting out my right wrist I swap hands and take my blade to my left wrist, shakily pressing hard down in one long vertical line from the bend in my wrist to the bend of my elbow. Feeling satisfied I place my blade back onto the edge of the bath and lay back in the warm red water. Relaxed. Letting myself slowly slip away from life, finally something I have control of. I don't know how much time past since I left school but I didn't even care anymore I should be dead by the time they find me. Soon enough I fall into the sweet peaceful darkness they call death.