I picked up the knife slowly running the back in my wrist. I heard the door bell . It scared me and the knife slipped and cut a slit in my arm.
I open the door and standing there two feet taller than me, looking down. James. Sweaty from running for 30 minutes. He grabbed my face and pulled me in for a deep and loving kiss. He slowly pushed away, smiled and left. And at that moment I knew I didn't want to die I want to hear the end of this story.
YOU ARE READING
Tales of Depression
Teen FictionSlowly taking over you. You try to run you try to hide ,but you can't run away from yourself. Self esteems gone down the drain. Who am I, why am I here. Am I really needed or am I just dust in the wind.
