Untitled Story

Chapter one

I sit on the couch texting my small group of "friends." Are they even my friends? My subconscious asks. I mean I only talk to them because my boyfriend does. Besides the friends my boyfriend "gave" me I'm all alone. My parents- my mom , blames me for everything. My friends leaving me, my boyfriend being heartless to me, and most important my fathers death, that happened just one month ago.

I look down at my arm, the cuts are gone, the scars fading, but I remember the pain I felt as I dragged the blade through my freshly scarred skin. I remember the tears falling out of my hazel-green eyes and onto to my newly stained pillow. I remember that my boyfriend was part of the reason I ever picked up the blade and used it too many times to keep track of. Tears start to float at the brim of my eyes as I remember seeing Jackson , my boyfriends, face as he first saw my slit wrists. I close my eyes as tight as I can so the tears don't fall down my face. It's been one full week since I cried, which led to slitting my wrists. It doesn't seem like much time to an ordinary person, but to someone who is completely broken on the inside it feels like years. And I will not break now.

I wake up not remembering falling asleep. I sit up too fast, giving myself whip lash.

"Have a nice nap?" My mother asks scaring me.

"Uh... Good, I guess. What time is it?" I ask politely.

"9:45, I was going to wake you up sooner. But I know you haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately. So I let you sleep." She replies with a smirk on her perfect face.

I can't wait to leave for college next week. Get out of this small town, out of this house, and most importantly away from her.

"Oh... Thanks. How'd you know." I asks out of curiosity.

"I can hear you shuffling around in that room of yours at two in the morning." She says looking at me with her perfect fucking face. Always painted with a fake smile. A perfect fake smile to hide everything.

"I've been taking sleeping pills, but they aren't working. I don't know why." I say pulling down my sleeve from habit.

"Do you think we should go to your doctor? Your father said that you were acting very distant lately. Is everything okay?"

Oh yea I just hate you, cry myself to sleep every night, and self harm. But yea I'm perfectly okay. I'll just put a smile on my face to please you. My subconscious says but I decide against saying that to my mother.

"Yea... I mean, I guess. I've felt a little disconnected lately, but I thought it was from all the loss of sleep." I admit.

"Well I'll call your doctor tomorrow and schedule you an appointment. Do you want to drive yourself or have me take off work and take you? Because I'll be scheduling it during the day when they aren't busy." She explains.

"Just tell me what time my appointment is, and I'll drive myself." I reply to my mother, as I get up off the couch.

"I'm going to take a shower, eat something, and try to go to bed." I tell my mother tiring of this personal conversation.

"Okay don't forget to brush your teeth." My mother says as she sits on the couch.

I swear she says that just to piss me off. I'm 18, almost 19 years old, and she still feels the need to tell me to brush my damn teeth.