At War With Myself

Chapter 3

As I entered the house, a new scent hit me. It wasn’t a candle like it used to be, it was hard, and gross. I shook my head in disbelief at all the changes and possibilities and walked upstairs. As I opened my door, I suddenly remembered the last time I walked in:

I was coming home from a rough day; everyone was laughing at me for the pimple on my chin on top of the girls who already called me fat and ugly. I ran straight upstairs to go cry and take out my blade. As I swung open my door, I stopped and saw my mother hanging from my fan. Her face was purple and her body was cold. I started screaming and crying; I couldn’t handle it; I thought I was dreaming. I didn’t know what to do, I needed my mom. Without thinking I ran into the bathroom cabinet and grabbed a bottle of pills. I lined them up on my bed and grabbed a glass of water. The water slid them down my throat fast. When I reached the 23rd pill I was picking up my water; my hand started to shake, I suddenly felt weak. Everything was spinning and my head was pounding. 2 seconds later I was out. The next day I woke up in the hospital. Then I was moved into rehab.

The feeling of loneliness hit me. I tossed my bags on the floor and jumped onto my bed; My room seemed so much different. Everything was different. The walls were grey and the paint was peeling (when I left they were blue). My dresser was broken, and my desk wasn’t here anymore. Too much has changed in only 2 months. I decided that all these changes weren’t all that bad; Within a few days I could re-do my room and make it nice again. I layed down and closed my eyes for what seemed to be seconds, only to be awaken by Cami telling me dinner was ready.