I opened it up and I started to cry.
Dear Emily,
You were never planned to be born your mother and I had only gone on a couple of dates. I believe that you're not my problem and I have decided to move away with my new girlfriend Jessica. I'm in love with her but she doesn't want to deal with you considering bad things always happen when you're around.
Now I wanted to punch something, instead I screamed at the top of my lungs. Why the hell was everything my fault? I did deserve to die. About a week ago I should have just cut a little bit deeper before bed, then maybe I wouldn't be here dealing with this. Then maybe my dad wouldn't have had to run away to be happy. I'm such I fuck up and I knew that I always have been.
I ran to the washroom and locked the door behind me. I opened a cabinet and found a razor. I pulled it out and sliced a long red mark down my arm. It felt so good to cut, I sliced my arm again. You fuck up, I thought you deserve this. Andy was pounding on the door," Emily whatever you do don't cut please."
I fell to the floor and started to cry why did I have to be born this way?
YOU ARE READING
Depression.
Teen FictionAbout a 16 year old girl named Emily who is suicidal and her journey through life. How she deals with depression and and problems she faces along the way. It was her first time switching schools because she had to move in with her dad. How are peopl...
