This is for the girls, the gays, the people that have always felt different due to who they identify as, who they are attracted too and the hardships they come through.
This book has triggering topics such a self h!rm, ect, please take care of your...
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I was a mess. I was. I didn't know what was happening nothing felt real.
My eyes stung, my chest felt heavy, I looked into the palm of my hand and their were practically pools of sweat inhabiting themselves into my flesh.
I always knew I had clammy hands, not like this though.
I felt nauseous and dizzy, it felt as if my brain was searching for symptoms, playing a guessing game as to what illness I have now. Mental or Physical? That's the hard question to answer.
My hands quiver, my legs tremble as I fold my legs over one another and begin to survey my surroundings.
I'm on my bed, I'm in my room, I'm safe.
'I'm safe'
Those words hardly ever etched themselves into the canvas of my mind however now they seem to have stuck there, unable to move. It was as comfortable as it was uncomfortable, I did feel squeamish thinking about it.
I cautiously leant my hand down so that it rested on my thigh. I felt the gradual warmth from my lower body submerge into my upper as it laid there.
That's when I knew, I wasn't dreaming.
~
Gradually, I stood up. I found myself stumbling towards the mirror on my wall.
I glanced at my reflection for a grief second, then I stared, I stared hard at the girl staring right back at me.
She had red splotches on her face, her eyes swollen so much they looked like two balloons on her face, her lips a rosy pink and her hair looked thin and ratty.
That was when the girl noticed what was clenched in her left hand. She opened her fist.
Small pieces of hair wafted out of her hands and flew towards the floor. Behind them came a silver blade, although you couldn't really call it silver any more. It had brownish red marks scattered upon it, some were dried some were not. It fell to the ground with a small noise following its deplete.
