Contains: Bad language, violence, self harm, depressive/sad [TRIGGER WARNING]
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Unfortunately Mike had to go after few hours, he had something made up with his other friends. I already missed him. We had great time. I watched out from the small window, in vestibule, Mike walked away. I sighed, and turned to stairs, only to be grabbed by my father. Damn it.
"Let's finish this shit" he said, turning me around.
"I thought we talked this out"
"Have I ever let you go before I've punished you?"
"No.." I said, but it came out as I quiet whisper.
"Yeah. No" he said and gripped my shirt, pulling me harshly away from the stairs. He pushed me again, and I flew into living room.
"It's your fucking time to learn the rules. You're fucking shit"
My dad took the belt from the rack. No... No, not the belt. Not again.
I gulped and when he tightly gripped my hair, I closed my eyes, trying to be ready to get hurt.
"Good your mom isn't at home, she's at bar again" he said and hit me once, twice, and even one more time. I whimpered at every hit. They will all bruise. My poor back.
He let my hair go, and he slammed his belt for the last time, against my arm. It hurt like hell. I wanted to scream and start crying. But all I did was whimper.
"Let's see when's the next time you run away from home" he said and threw me toward the stairs.
I got myself to the upstairs, and to the bathroom. I locked the door and let the tears fall freely. I leaned on the sink. Why i'm so shit? Why can't I just die? Nothing matters. I don't matter. I will never be anything.
I never realized when I had took a blade, now rolling it in my fingertips.
Should I? Yes.
Do I want? Yes.
Am I worth? No.
I rolled up my sleeve, exposing my old cuts and scars. I placed the razor, and pulled it deeply against my wrist. I closed my eyes and gasped, feeling blood coming out of my skin, dropping into sink. I do it again, again. I open my eyes, seeing my wrist covered with blood and wounds. Endorphins made it feel good, and demons around me yelled to cut more. And I did. The skin was all red, numbness, causing only the blade go deeper.
I sat down on the toilet's cover, still watching my bleeding wrist. I sighed deeply. I touched the fresh bleeding spots, wiping some blood away. I put my bloody fingers to my mouth, sucking the blood away, tasting it's delicous.
This is weird addiction, but I love how blood tastes, and it makes it even harder to stop cutting. To be honest, at the moment, I don't even wanna stop.
After a long moment, I washed my hands and wrist, cleaning everything up. It looked like nothing happened here. Good. I walk out of the bathroom, feeling weak, I go to my room. I take couple of pills, swallowing them quickly. I open the window, sitting on the ledge. I watch up to the bright stars. My sleeves were still rolled up, and the cold air felt good on the fresh scars.
I never wanted to be like this. Never. I never guessed I would become this. That 8 years old Chester would not be proud. I wanted to live good, but seems like it's more hard I thought. The world is too cruel place to live good.
Suddenly my phone received a message. I opened my phone, noticing it was from Mike.
"Hey Ches how you're doing? you ok?"
YOU ARE READING
Happy pill
FanficChester is depressed and self-harming teenager, who got bad cards in life. He gets bullied in school and abused by his father. He's lost and alone, but what happens when his crush finds him from that dark corner? [Warning: very depressive, drugs, vi...
