"Life as we may not have bargained for"

Chapter 1: Once when i was 16

How I met Vic...

~~~~~~~~~Flash back~~~~~~~~

Blythe's POV

Turning the heater to its highest temp. I switched on the shower tap and let the hot water seep onto my skin.
"I'm so sick and tired of this, I hate this I-i" I muttered to myself as I sat down with tears forming in my eyes and head on my hands, I'm having an anxiety attack again...Like that's something new...

"I hope those people are happy that I'm fucking miserable" I thought.
I'm not usually like this, my friends say that I'm an optimistic and outgoing kind of gal but there's just those other people who get to me...

Like people say I'm anorexic because I have a bony figure which I hate. I mean it's in my fucking genes and I eat a lot yet here I am looking like the grim reaper's daughter or something.
I gripped on my hair and started to punch my thighs hard as I groan "Fucking people! Fucking lives! Can I just fucking die?" I exclaimed then I stopped and looked at my hands and felt sympathy for myself.
I hate seeing myself like this yet whenever I just can't take it, I wanna let it all out. I've had enough of the criticism, the hate and those who laugh at my dreams, saying that ill never make it, that I'm stupid and pathetic.

After spending an hour in the shower with my deep thoughts, I contemplated on whether or not I should just do it. The only thing that others may seem to go to, to help ease that pain.
Going out of the shower I wrapped a towel around my body and faced my reflection on the mirror. My light brown hair tangled due to not combing it unless I go outside, my piercing hazel eyes, my thin pale pink lips, my pointy slightly rounded nose, my thin eyebrows and my skinny figure. I'm not perfect but I don't wanna be anyone else than me....

Usually they use a blade or a razor but I prefer a sharp pocket size knife. I'm exhausted, I just wanna curl up into a ball and die along with the fucked up feelings inside me...
I grasp the knife by its handle, my hands shaking a little to anticipation.

I shouldn't do it

No

Yes

No

The voices inside my head fought against each other. My left hand moved into position and the other who's holding the knife pressed it lightly against my skin, 5 inches away from my wrist. Testing out my final decision, I gasped in pain when I realize I gashed it along swiftly making a deep yet short cut through my skin that will surely leave a mark.

The blood started a little puddle on the sink and I start to panic remembering how I hate the feeling of seeing blood, it makes me all nervous and stuff I don't know why. I quickly tapped the faucet and put the bleeding hand against the pouring water letting it there for a brief moment before turning it off and hissing due to the aching pain.

I grabbed a handkerchief from the back pocket of my hanged jeans and tied a knot twice around the wounded hand. "Fuck I shouldn't have done that I'm so stupid, I'm sorry" I cried..it isn't the right thing..I should've think it through and now what? It's like I'm some kind of failure, I hugged myself and dried off my tears, promising that I wouldn't let my anxiety and those people get the best of me again....

I shut the bathroom door once I stepped inside my room and changed into some new band tee that is "All time low", jean shorts, fish net stockings and my old medium cut black boots. I stroked my hair gently with a brush while blow drying it then applied white powder on my face, a dark blue eye shadow, black eyeliner and a bit of mascara.
I know I sound ridiculous using baby powder but I cleanse my face daily and apply moisturizer so don't need to cover up my face.