It's not as it seems (Everlark story)

Chapter 18: Free

Chapter 18

Katniss P.O.V.

Today I'm home from school. I told mom and Kyle that I feel sick. I told my friends that I feel sick and I'm still in bed. I guess they all believed me, mom and Kyle let me stay home and my friends didn't argue with me.

I don't think that my friends believed that I'm sick though, but I guess they understand that I don't want to go to school. The bullying has gotten even worse. I can't handle the bullying anymore and I can't let my friends get into trouble because of me anymore, I just can't. It's all too hard. What do I do? I guess I've already decided.

I feel sad about my decision, but I've made up my mind. I don't want to leave Peeta but I have to. Everyone's lives will be so much better without me in it. I just cause problems for everyone. And I don't want to do that anymore. I'm not strong enough.

I throw the covers off me. Mom and Kyle went to their jobs an hour ago. Kyle drove Prim to school, so I'm home alone.

I walk up to my window and pull up the drapes. The sun shines into my room, lighting it up in less then a second. My eyes hurt at the sudden light.

I look away from the window and sit down onto my desk chair. I put my hand onto my desk and sigh.

I grab a pen and paper. I write down exactly what happened with Timmy and what he did. I write it in detail. Word for word. And it's hard to put down in words on a paper, the pain he put me through. And I wrote about how he started that rumor in school and I give the police permission to look in my medical records to be able to arrest Timmy. I have evidence in my medical records. My doctor knows everything. I sign it with my signature.

I don't write letters to my friends or family. Not this time. They know I love them. They all know it. At least I hope they do.

But just to make sure, I write how much they all mean to me and how much I love them. They have to know that this isn't their fault. And I make sure to write that down as well.

It becomes a four page letter, back and front. That's a lot. When I look at the clock after finish writing I see that I've been writing for about an hour.

I put the note on my desk, saying 'IMPORTANT!'

I hope someone reads it very soon. Very very soon.

I strip out of my clothes and keep my underwear on. I grab the knife from my desk drawer. After that I walk into the bathroom, I don't even bother to lock the door.

I turn on the tab to the bathtub. I let the water fill half the tub, before I turn it off. I sit into the warm water, feeling it caress my body. Not my whole body, because it's not a lot of water in the tub.

I take up the knife with a shaky hand and put it on my warm, on my wrist. I pull it up my arm in a line, blood flowing out the second the knife makes the cute, along my arm.

I close my eyes at the pain. But I make the exact same cut on the other arm. It stings, it hurts, it burns. But it feels good as well. It makes me forget about the mental pain I'm going through right now.

These cuts I made now, I made very deep. The blood is flowing like a river. I think I may have cut through a vein. Destroyed it. The water turns red in the matter of seconds, and so does my body.

I one of my arm rest on the edge of the tub and the blood flows down the tub on down onto the floor.

I'm going to be free. Soon.

After a few minutes I'm starting to feel lightheaded. Yeah. I definitely cut through a vein.

My vision starts to become blurry. I start to see black spots. And after that, it's only a few seconds before I blackout completely.