Chapter Eleven: Help.
She clenched the razor blade in her shaking hand. She was slowly giving in. The poor girl had felt like her arms, her body, had an itch that she couldn't scratch away for so long. For too long. Summer had tried to distract herself from cutting, but the urge found its way back. She took deep breaths, counting slowly as she closed her eyes.
"1, 2, 3.. 20, 21.." She kept on going 'till she finally was able to let the razor slip from her fingers. She looked down at the sink where the razor was currently laying. She pulled her hands into fists and kept on staring at the razor. She didn't want to lose the fight, she wanted to win. She opened the cabinet in the bathroom and grabbed the orange pill container. Taking out two antidepressants, she swallowed them with a glass of ice cold water.
She just wanted somebody to talk to,
Anyone.
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Broken Hills | ✓
Short Story❝Grief and sorrow will always be near you, but it must not destroy you.❞ In which a broken girl and a broken boy were lost in a world full of agony. *** [completed] #86 in short story ; Broken Hills. copyright © 2016. all rights reserved.
