'Don't do it!' I scolded myself. 'It won't solve anything!'
I needed to feel in control. The physical pain would distract me from my emotional pain. My brother had done it before. He did it a lot. It must have felt good for him to have kept doing it. But then look how it turned out. Death. I moved the blade over my wrist. Should I do it? I took another deep breath and applied pressure and slid the blade quickly over my wrist. Tears started forming again. Blood started to form on the fresh cut. What have I done? My eyes widened at the amount of blood forming I panicked. 'Quick get a cloth' I grabbed an old t-shirt and held it over my wrist. Tears streaked my face. What's wrong with me? Why can't I be normal?
I released pressure and took off the cloth. It had stopped bleeding but not completely yet. The self-harm made me feel relief. I finally felt in control of my life. It made me want to do it again. I had to be careful not to become addicted. But I felt happier. Like it let all my bad emotions out. I contemplated doing it again. It made me feel better, so why not? I reached for the blood stained blade and once again slid it across my wrist. I then reapplied the cloth and pressed down. My breathing was still heavy. I no longer felt invisible and i now felt like I was important. Doing this had distracted me from all the negativity in my life. I cleaned off the blood off the blade and hid it in the cloth and put it into my school bag. I looked at the fresh cuts on my wrist. They looked ugly, but I felt better. I felt dizzy so i decided to go to bed and rest after everything.
