She was nearly 11 by this point.
Choosing her secondary school like any other kid.
Depressed.
Suicidal.
Self-harming regularly.
She never showed her arms.
Or her wrists.
Or her sides.
Or her hips.
Or her legs.
And when she tried to slit her throat she didn't show her neck either.
Because the thin red lines across it might have given her away.
YOU ARE READING
One More Life
RandomA short story told as a collection of poem style parts. It centres around the life of a girl as she struggles with depression, self harm and suicide. Potential trigger warning.
