I went home from a long day of boring school. Hoping for no sign of my parents. My head was hurting terribly all because of the stress. I unlocked the door swiftly; shutting it quickly. I walked upstairs to my room quietly. My dear friend was sitting upon my dresser waiting to be used. Cleansed and sharp as ever. I sat and looked at my collection of different sharp objects; small and big, I preferred small. I grabbed my newest one and sliced my fresh skin. Skin that has never been hurt before by me. Oh' how I love my razors. I began to slice more uncut skin and smiled slightly and closed my eyes and began to carve deep. Feeling nothing at first but then they begin to burn and sting. While I pour cold water onto the freshly cut skin I sing a Of Mice And Men. My favorite band that I am going to see tomorrow. I started to feel way better, I skipped my dinner and went to take a shower. The next morning I lifted up my arm to see the damage that I left. It was very red and I couldn't see any untouched skin. Everywhere. I love the way it feels but I ask myself why do I do it? Is it because of my family problems? School? Am I even perfect? No one cares about me. It all started two years ago. When my mom and dad started to fight and un-love each other. How could they do this, they were a perfect couple. How does two accomplish and not love each other anymore. It is impossible to. They started to take their problems out on me and I started to fail classes. I started to take marijuana and I have a secret stash of my moms cigarette's. I couldn't help but try once to cut myself. I even remember the first day I did. When I was home alone and I went into my room and got a pencil sharpener and unscrewed the knob and cut my thigh gently. I felt nothing; it felt almost vulnerable. I did more and then I began to see the blood coming out. That's when it started. I kind of became addicted yah' know? I have only one friend and it will be my blade.
