I Promise...

The Only Thing

Hi! Okay so this is my first actual good (I think?) Story and I hope you guys like it. Also before you move on, there's a lot of descriptive self harm and if you don't wanna read it, you don't have to but it will make the story make sense. Also, there's domestic violence and there might be smut in later chapters (I'll let you know at the beginning of the chapter for triggers and such).

I try to update as much as possible but I'm a terrible writer and most of the stuff I'm used to writing is horror stuff. But yeah. I usually write the story whenever I get an idea for what should be next.  Anyway, I hope you like it c: (also sorry for the short chapters. I'll try to lengthen them a I go)

xxAshley
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(Also this chapter starts off with self harm and it's very descriptive)
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She did it again and again. Never failed. Amy Cassie Sims was once again a screw up.

"Amy,what are you doing?" My mom asked through my door. It was locked and it was gonna stay that way for a while.

I was doing what I always do when I feel this way. When I feel I like a screw up. I let the cold metal run over my wrists. I thought and thought. I think it was finally time. I put force on the metal blade into my wrists watching as the warm blood dripped. It dripped and dripped until there was a puddle of it that stained my blanket.

I tried to block out the sounds of the violent knocking from my mom. She tried to get in but I wouldn't let her. Voices in my head kept creeping in and out. I was so confused. The world is just so confusing. People tell me to get over depression but that's not how it works. You don't tell people to get over Cancer so why say that about depression.

I let the blade continue to dance across my wrist, continuing to watch the drops of blood collect. I was lost in my thoughts until I felt a burning sensation run up my arm. A tear had slipped from my face into the deep wound that I had caused; but I didn't care. Any pain was better than the pain that was keeping me awake at night, making me feel worthless.

His words flashed in my head as if I was reading for the first time again...

you're a whore, Amy. No one is ever gonna love you. and I never did. you're worthless and you're gonna die alone. No one likes an emo slut like you.

Each word caused me to place the, now red, metal against my thigh causing fresh blood to appear as it ran down my leg. Another scar would be added, and another, until it no longer looked like a thigh. It no longer looked "normal".

Tears were running down my face, taking the clumpy mascara and the sut colored eyeliner along with it. Each tear stained my face as it rolled down, dropping itself onto my shirt. The shirt that was his.

I never took it off; I always wanted to wear it. His scent still lingered on it, reminding me of the times that caused my smile. When my smile wasn't fake and I was actually happy. His shirt fit me comfortably, it was like my security blanket. I never wanted to be without it. It was the only thing of him I had left. It was the only thing of Brantley that I could physically hold.

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Brantley was the best thing to happen to me, or so I thought. He made me feel special, loved, accepted. But that was only to my face; what he said behind my back was something completely different. He called me a whore, a slut, anything you could think of. He told his friends I disgusted him and that I wasn't good enough. He didn't want me.

I loved him, with every ounce of energy I had in me. Every fiber of my soul craved his presense. I craved his love and attention, and I thought that's what I was getting. The sex we had had felt real to me, until it became constant and that's all he wanted. He told me that. Brantley was one disgusting excuse of a human being and he made every girl he dated feel the exact same way. His love was fake and he wouldn't know what love was if it slapped him in the face.
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I grabbed the damp towel that I had used to dry my hair after my shower from beside me and wrapped it around my wrist, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. I noticed that my blankets were stained with the thick liquid that had escaped from my flesh. The red splotches decorated the white cotton in a horrid manner. I knew it would never come out.

My mother was still standing at my door, asking if I was okay. Still wanting to leave the four walls that I seemed to stay in forever. I removed the towel from my slaughtered arm and moved it to my thigh, wincing at the pain that it caused. The warm blood quickly soaked into the cloth and was soon mostly gone.

I quickly got up, pulling my leggings on slowly, holding back the tears that were trying there best to escape my eyes. The pain was almost unbearable. I could barely walk.

I made my way to my dresser as I looked at myself in the mirror, wondering what that thing was looking back at me. I looked down and shook my head, wondering why the voices in my head would never leave me alone. I pulled a makeup wipe from out of the packet that was lying on my dress and drug it across my face, taking away all the products that covered my imperfections and erasing the tear stains that were put there earlier.

I threw on a hoodie that was quite big for my petite size, being careful not to make any accidental pain to the wounds that were already there. I walked over to my door, twisted the gold metal sideways and turned the knob, pulling backwards so the wooden door was just an entry way leading to a hallway.

My mother put her hand on my shoulder. "Amy, are you okay?" she asked with concern spread across her face. Her eyes almost tear filled. "i just need a glass of water." i say as I make my way down the hallway, down the stairs dragging my hand across the polished wood that held the stairs up. I trotted over to the kitchen, not making any eye contact with my family that had not seemed to notice my despair, fortunately, and opened the cabinet to find a clear glass that I soon filled with ice and cold, refreshing water and walked back up to my room. As I reached the entry way of my room, I noticed my mother sitting on the bed, with the blade in her hand and disappointed tears in her eyes.
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A/N: don't forget to vote and comment if you liked it. Feel free to make constructional criticism and correct any errors I made.