"Death is not beautiful, I've become a journal of suicide notes.
When I was 12, one of my best friends stopped eating because she learned that the only way boys would love her would be if she became half the person she had always been, and there was nothing beautiful in the way she skipped meals and toilet seats became her life's mantra until she could feel her bones under her skin.
When I was 13, one of my friends told me she liked to carve words into her skin because that was the only way she could feel anything other than the emptiness, and there was nothing beautiful in the way she embedded scars so deep into her veins, she tried to bleed the life out of her.
When I was 14, one of my best friends took a bunch of pills because her body and mind were too tired of playing Russian Roulette with her thoughts anymore, and there was nothing beautiful in the way those words rolled off her tongue so effortlessly like they were the only thing she could hear in her head.
When I was 15, I stayed up all night talking to my best friend out of taking her own life because she got drunk on the thought of throwing her body over the roof a week before her birthday, and there was nothing beautiful in the layers of intoxication in her voice when she told me she'd always wanted to die by her own hands.
Death is not beautiful, I've become a journal of suicide notes"
This isn't mine either, it's from the same Instagram page of the last chapter.
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Broken But Not Broken (COMPLETE)
Non-FictionOk, so everything that you read actually happened, so if you want to keep reading its your choice, WARNING: Sometimes I feel that my depression doesn't make sense, please, if you relate to this story, or you start feeling worse STOP READING! UPDA...
