⇾𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝, 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬 ∙⋄♡⋄∙ A poor girl that sees no point in living meets a young boy who helps her discover her reason to keep...
In the end, Kazuha walked me back home as the route there was silent. I didn't speak. I was just so confused.
I got back to the place that is supposed to feel like my home, and went into my room. My only source of comfort.
I don't understand. I was having a fun time with him when we were at the cafe, but the moment I got back home, everything evaporated into air.
Did I actually have fun? What does it mean to have fun? How do you know you're having fun?
I sigh as I fall onto my bed and stare at the ceiling above me. My eyes suddenly start to water as tears flow down my cheeks like water falls.
What is wrong with me. Why am I even crying? I have no reason to cry, yet tears of sadness wouldn't stop pouring...
I was happy with him, right?
Was I? Was I really?
I don't know.
I don't understand why I don't know.
Why can't I know?
I don't know anything.
I'm stupid.
I can't respond even to the simplest of questions. Like, for example, what am I feeling right now?
I'm sobbing, yet I do not feel sadness. I don't feel anger, joy, disgust or fear. I don't understand myself.
I hate how I am. I hate how stupid I am. I hate how I act around people. I hate that I have no friends, yet the moment someone approaches me, I get scared.
Scared of what? Being alone? Him leaving me because he realizes what a wimp I am? What if he found me annoying and was just acting nice with me? Was it all an act?
Did our date even happen? Why am I even doubting that? Of course it happened...I just can't accept it. I can't believe it. It doesn't feel real. Was I dreaming? Is this all an illusion?
Why do I have so many questions, yet no answers.
I don't want to think, but I don't want to be mindless. I want to be knowledgeable, yet I have no motivation to learn. I want to feel things, yet I'm scared of feelings.
Why do I instantly get attached to anyone who gives me the simplest of attention. Of kindness.
Why can't I treat myself with care? Why must I hurt myself with these thoughts. Am I going insane? For some reason, I feel like I've been insane for a long time now. For some reason, I want to be insane.
Why do I have this impulse to ruin anything good in my life? Maybe it's because I'm afraid of anything good. Maybe it's because I am afraid that someone will ruin it for me and it'll hurt me. So perhaps, maybe instead of anyone else hurting me, I hurt myself first.
But I have become addicted. I have become addicted to hurting myself. I want to feel pain. As much psychological and physical pain as possible. I deserve it after all.
I deserve anything terrible coming my way.
Why?
Cause I'm the reason that I made my younger self's life worse. So I deserve to torture myself like this.
It's my fault. It'll always be my fault and nothing but mine. I am to blame for anything bad happening.
I am the one in a terrible state, so it is only logical that I paint anything bright and colorful with dark and mute colors.
I shouldn't deserve to do such things. I'm a terrible person.
I simply don't deserve to live.
I should just disappear. No one needs me in their life anyways. So no one would even notice.
I can just die and no one would even come to cry at my grave.
Not my sister and not even my own parents.
They all hate me.
Everyone hates me.
That's why I should just disappear.
I'm a burden to my family.
I don't want to live in misery anymore.
I want to die.
I sit up from my bed as I head over to my drawer with heavy steps and a slow pace, as if a zombie.
I open my drawer and my eyes lay upon the razor I hide in there. Of course, no one would care to confiscate it, so I'd always find it there.
I reach my hand to the razor and pick it up slowly as I bring it close to look at it.
I could notice little specks of dry blood on it from the last time. I don't care for it and slowly bring the blade to my opposite arm.
My hand was shaking and my eyes were teary.
I placed the sharp blade on my skin and run the cutter against my skin as a river of blood pours out of the self inflicted wound.
I wince in pain slightly, but the pain suddenly goes away. My arm was still bleeding and this cut was probably the deepest one I've done yet. Blood poured out as if I had an infinite amount.
Since the pain wouldn't last, I cut my arm again as I made another cut on my arm along with some old ones that were supposed to finish healing.
Before realizing it, I had hurt myself a bit too much as my arm was covered with red liquid and a puddle formed on the ground bellow.
My breath hitched at the realization and I started to feel dizzy. My head was spinning in circles and my vision started to get blurry.
I had gone too far. I was loosing too much blood, I was too weak to do anything about it and for some reason, I didn't want to either.
