shut them out- l.h

finding// 0.2

^ song I listened to while writing this

****TRIGGER WARNING!!!!****
*previously*
"She felt the urge to commit suicide, something she had attempted to do many times before.
But he sensed this, and he didn't like it. He wanted her to live, and to love him forever."

•

*Fawns POV*

I felt like absolute shit. I wanted nothing more then to get out of the hell away from this shit hole people call earth. My parents treated me like shit. I didn't have any friends. My dad died after my mom murdered him. (A/N: relationship goals.)

So things weren't good for me. At all. Life was sucky and no one cares for me. If I died today no one would miss me. I'm all on my own in a small apartment I recently bought, leaving me broke.

It was frustrating. It seemed like life was rigged to be shit to me.. I just want to end it all. At least death wouldn't kill people..they'd already be dead.

Gone is a beautiful word.

It signifies absence. To be without can give the most crowded feeling. I feel crowded within myself. I'm not ready for this. I was never prepared for life..
Then again; was anyone? Is life like this for everyone?

Contemplation runs a high in my head on a constant.. It is unavoidable. I guess it takes someone to come around to see how good life can really be. Life hasn't been all that great for me. I hate myself for countless reasons..

*

I decide to head home, to be alone and out of the public.. I take my time watching my old converse hit the hard sidewalk as I step carelessly on the weeds and ground. It's boring, and a long walk back.

*

**home**

**skip if you don't want to read the part about self harm!!**

I question my life a lot.. Right now I'm sitting in the bathroom with my blade stroking it harshly against my upper thigh hissing at the pain I've yet to get used to. These scars are all over my body, they haunt me; they're addicting.

I know in my head it's a terrible thing to do to myself.. But who ever said I didn't want to do horrible things to myself?

My skin screams as I reopen past scars and draw new ones.. Usually drawings are pretty, but these aren't the usual drawings. They leave crimson blood behind as I cut myself countless times..

Sometimes I wonder after the matter; why do u do this to myself? My head sits in silence as I continue to mark my skin.

I finally wash off the blade, dry it, and put it back in its place. I wrapped up the cuts and simply cried myself to sleep.. I'll try to sleep it off and make bad decisions tomorrow..

•

A/N: hello..
it's me
BITCH
Nahhh.. I found out someone special is reading this and shit.... Btw I'm sorry if that last part triggered you..

Love ya! (Next chapter soon b/c winter break)