I'm barricaded in the room. The doors locked, the lights off, with only the faint moonlight making my room quite dim. Blood dropped from the slashes on my wrists down to the tiled bathroom floor. I made one more cut, more painful than that of the other ones I made, I gasped and shakily dropped the blood stained blade onto the floor. What are you doing? I shook my head and stared at my bloody wrists. I stood up and headed for the sink, cold water immediately made contact with my wrists, I flinched immediately as I felt a sting enveloping my wrists. I patted my still bleeding wrists with a damp towel, I walked out from the bathroom and sat on my bed. Fuck, this looks awful. Why does it matter anyway? I'm always awful.
-
I stood up from the couch and headed over to the kitchen, I poured myself a glass of orange juice and chugged it in one gulp. I heard the phone ring, but it's not like I care, it's probably my mom's boy toy. Probably. "Blair! Go answer the phone, please. If that's Richard tell him I'm in the shower." I hate Richard. I rolled my eyes and went to answer the phone. "Ashley, 6 p.m, right?" His voice is so rough and scratchy, god I can't tolerate it. I don't know why my mom is dating him, maybe for money. "She's taking a shower, Richard." I heard him mutter a few curse words,well that was irrelevant. "Tell her she needs to be there by six." Then he hung up, that bastard. I've always hated every single one of mom's boy toy. After dad died she started going out with douche-bags forcing me to call them dad, no fucking way.
My mom doesn't know how much I want to move out, I want to see my older brother, god I miss Josh. He moved out ever since dad died, he moved out because he couldn't take the crap mom's boyfriends were giving him. They would pick on him a lot because he was quite a wimp and some would hurt him just for the heck of it. Then one day, he just left, I didn't know where he went, not a clue. It's been 2 years since he left, where the fuck are you Josh?
I grunted and headed for my room. "Mom, Richard says you need to be there by six." Then I slammed the door. I landed on the bed and I immediately grabbed my journal and my pen.
June 14, 2015
I'm tired. I'm tired of mom and her men always frolicking inside the house. I'm tired of not seeing my brother. I'm just tired. It's Malcolm's birthday tomorrow, I don't know what I should get that kid. He's kind of in love with Jurassic Park right now, should I buy him a toy dinosaur? He would love that for sure. I started cutting again. I got the huge one sewed up yesterday, it hurt. The string is so irritating, I just want to pull it out. I've been ignoring Drew for a few days now, god I love Drew that I hate it. I'm so messed up. Well I need to get used to it then. I'll try to keep myself sane. Till next time.
I hid my journal inside my drawer and shut my eyes, I silently drifted to sleep.
-
My eyes fluttered open and it was dark, it's obviously not day. I checked my phone, I squinted my eyes as the bright light blinded me. 2:14 a.m. I'm not going to sleep any time soon. I decided to write in my journal, again.
June 15, 2015
It's 2:17 a.m and I can't sleep. Well, probably because I just woke up. I have school in a few hours, and I'd probably sleep through it. I don't think I want to go to school tomorrow. I don't want to see Drew, I won't even get to talk to him, it still hurts being like this. I'm not talking to him because, don't know.I swear this is not just a little trick causing to stir up drama, god I hate drama. I know that's something is wrong with me, and it fucking sucks because I don't know what. And that's so fucking difficult because I don't know how to fix it. Nothing works. I feel this pain, not physically, i just feel it. It's killing me inside, and I hate it. I hate the fact that other people, mostly Drew, are getting involved in this mess. My mess. Why do I hate myself? I'm trying to control myself, I'm trying to be okay. But I can't. Every time I do, I just break again, I'm so tired of myself. When will this all end? I hope it's soon.
I shut my journal close and sighed. No one knows I feel this way. I'm scared they won't understand. My mom, god, she might be the only person who'd get me and not push me away, but I doubt that. She's too busy with her men. My father, he was the most treasured person in my life, god, he still is. But he's not here, he left me. I'm not mad at him, I understand that it's the way things are, I just can't accept it, somehow.
Dad, please fucking help me.
