A Girl Lost In The World

Chapter 1

I looked at the razor in my hand, the blood running down my arms, my hands shaking slightly. I cut too deep this time... what am I supposed to do? I look at the cuts on my upper arms. They're deep. Too deep. I feel panic starting to rise in me. Will they get infected? Will someone see? Will I die? The last one is maybe a bit overexaggerated, but it could still happen.

I get up from my bed to find some paper towels to clean up the blood. I sneak out of my room. The house is quiet. It's late at night, so I don't need to worry about anyone seeing my arms.

I walked down in the kitchen, the wind making my scars sting slightly. I looked around the kitchen quickly before I found the paper towels, I took a few pieces and ran them over my arms gently, wiping the blood away.

It wasn't enough. I took more paper towels. A small pile of paper towels started forming, everyone covered in blood. I look down at the new wounds. They're not bleeding so much anymore. I pick up all the bloody paper towels and go up to my room again, I throw the bloody paper towels in the trash.

I go over to my bed and reach in under it, my fingers fumble around until I find it. My kit. I take it out from under my bed and open it up and take out some patches. I start applying them carefully on my wounds. One after the other, they cover up the wounds, and when I'm done, I look at my arms. They're almost completely covered in patches. I look at my arms with sad eyes. How did I get here?

Where did the happy girl go? The girl that was always smiling and dressing up? The girl that enjoyed life and was always exited, where did she disappear to? I want that girl back... I don't want to be this... this mess of emotions and events I wish I could forget.

I cut myself to forget. I cut myself to forget the pain that has made a hole in me. I cut to think of something else. I cut to punish myself. I cut because I'm not good enough. I cut because I want to feel better... but I only get more pain out of it, yet I still do it. It's a stupid way to cope, but it helps sometimes...

I throw the package of the patches out in the trashcan in my room and push the kit back under my bed before I take on a long sleeved shirt and go back to bed.

But I don't sleep. I look up in the ceiling. If my parents found out, how would they react? Will they be angry? Sad? Disappointed? I'd be surprised if they could even get more disappointed in me. I'm already the failure of the family. The big black shadow of sadness that everyone thinks is a disappointment.

I was already a nobody in school, I only had one friend, who I cherished with my life, she was my light in the world. She understood me.

Suddenly, my chest feels tight. What if I just ended everything? No one would miss me, no one in school likes me, my family thinks I'm a disappointment, only bad things happen to me. I'm so tired...

But then I think of my little sister and my best friend, Clara, and even my parents. They would be broken... I don't want to make them sad... so I push the thought away.

And slowly I start getting sleepy, I close my eyes and sigh. I still feel empty. Will I ever feel happy again?