Getting home she runs straight to her room so no one sees her bruises. Not that anyone cares, she thinks.
When she gets to bed she lays down and replays her day over in her head. All the names, all the pain, and no help through it all. It's almost time for dinner so she goes and puts makeup on to cover up her bruises.
"Dinner time!" her mother calls.
"Okay mom."
As she walks down stairs she sets and listens to her parents having a conversation like she's not there. Like she's invisible. Not even touching her dinner she goes back to her bedroom and lies down thinking. Not even my family cares anymore.
What did she do wrong? What did she do to deserve this? Why does no one care? Would they miss me if I left?
The last one sticks out in her mind. What if they really wouldn't care? Would they just continue life as it is?
The demons over power her thoughts once again and she feels that familiar itch in her wrists. Going to her bathroom she grabs her stash of blades in her cabinet.
One cut for being invisible.
One cut for being useless.
One cut for being ugly.
One cut for being stupid.
One cut for being fat.
This continues until she has around 30 cuts lining her arms and legs with blood pouring out. After she cleans herself up she thinks about how much pain she goes through each day and decides she will give everyone one more day to change their ways or death will be her fate. Her thoughts had wondered to suicide many times, "This time nothing will stop me."
She really did wish she was invisible.
YOU ARE READING
Her Suicide Story
Teen FictionShe just couldn't take it any longer, so she jumped. This is Catherine's story of how your words do hurt more than you know. But some don't realize it until it's too late. If only people cared to be nice to one another, if only people would help th...
