Skie’s point of view:
Of course I was late to last block, I always am. I walked to the back of the room and sat down in the desk next to Grayson. Grayson’s my best friend and has beens since we were twelve. He’s the only friend I have left. Most people that were my friends ditched me long before my sixteenth birthday. He looked over at me and gave me a smile. God, that smile. It always lite up my day, and his beautiful eyes were so...illuminating. Breathtaking. Stunning. And his lips..They looked to soft and graceful. I wonder what it would be like to kiss them..Feel his lips against mine just for a little bit. But I doubt he has any feelings for me whatsoever.
I was snapped out from my daydreaming by Mrs. Kimmothy. “Skie, since you were the last person to enter my classroom, will you please do us all the honor of reading your poem you wrote for homework last night?”. I looked at the tissues on my wrist. They were puffy underneath my skin tight green long sleeve shirt. But I had bracelets on so, hopefully no one will notice. Hopefully I can get this done and over with quickly. I stood up, walked to the front of the room and began reading.
“She paints a pretty picture, a picture with a twist. Her paintbrush is her razor, her canvas is her wrist. She paints her picture in a colour that’s a beautiful crimson shade. While using her sharp paintbrush, the girl lays in her grave. Everyone made fun of her, until the day she was dead. Nobody cared, no, not even after she was gone. Your jokes weren’t funny, and your words cut skin deep. Do you feel bad now? Knowing it was all your fault she left?”
“Thank you Skie..for that uhm..wonderfully written poem.” Mrs. Kimmothy said with a disgusted look. The class was completely silent other than Mary, snickering in the second row from the front on the left side. “You think that crap was good? Why would you even considering reading something like that? So what. The girl in your poem is suicidal, who gives a crap.” Mary said, smiling. Her friends laughed and Mrs. Kimmothy yelled for the class to be quiet. Maybe Mrs. Kimmothy had a slight bit of decency left in that old, wrinkly body of hers. I walked back to my desk and sat down.
I put my hands under my desk and checked my phone. Just a text from Grayson. He’s worried about me because of the poem I wrote. I looked over at him, and mouthed ‘I’m Fine’ and faked a smile. He smiled back and went back to drawing. He was drawing something that looked like a heart tied to an anchor sinking deep into the ocean. In reality, I wasn’t fine. I feel like i’m dying inside. I feel...Alone. Lost. Numb. But I don’t want Grayson to be upset and worried about me, no one should ever worry about me. I don’t need their sympathy, so I’ll just plaster on a smile and pretend that everything’s just peachy.
I looked back down at my hands. I pushed my long sleeve shirt up a little bit and looked at the cuts on my wrist. They’re bleeding again, my shirt keeps sticking to them. They were deeper than usual. I've began cutting deeper and deeper for the last few days. I guess my mind is finally realizing that these blades need to end my life so I can finally feel at peace. The bell rang and everyone got up, fifth block is over. Everyone packed up their things and were already out of the classroom so I didn’t bother pulling my sleeves back down since I was planning on walking home alone. Well..you could call it a home, but home is where you’re supposed to feel loved. Safe. Comfortable. But at home, I just get physically and verbally abused every worthless day of my worthless little life. My “home” was actually just somewhere I spent my days resenting myself and wishing I were dead.
“Skie...What’s that?!”
I turned around and saw Grayson standing there with tears in his eyes. I was speechless. I thought he went home. I tried to speak but no words would come out. I choked on my words.
“Grayson..I..I..”, was all I could manage to say.
Grayson ran out of the room before I could say anything more. What’ve I done?! My best friend probably feels like he doesn’t even know the real me anymore. I lied to him. I promised him we’d be best friends forever. But that’s changed now. Best friends are supposed to tell eachother everything. And I keep all of my biggest secrets from him because I don’t want him to see the me that I've hidden so well for so long. If he figures out who I am inside, he might ditch me..And I need him. He doesn’t know about the abuse, the bullying, or the cutting..well...now he knows about that.. I walked out of the classroom with my phone in my hand. Gray wasn’t at his locker or mine. Where’d he go? I must’ve really fucked things up..But why is he so worried about me? No one’s ever bothered to care about me. Sighing softly and putting a few books in my locker, I held back tears. How could I do something like this to him.?
So as usual, I walked home alone, with my headphones in blasting Existentialism On Prom Night by Straylight Run. Some asshole kids from my school started throwing rocks at me while I walked down the street. This was nothing new to me. They stopped after a few minutes once the realized I just don’t care anymore. When I got home my alcoholic, abusive mother was already home from work. Just my luck. She screamed at me at me right away as I walked through the front door and began telling me how much of a fuck up and disappointment of a daughter that I was and I stood there expressionless. If I cry, she’ll get even more satisfaction. And I refuse to give her that. Staring at her, but not actually listening to anything she’s saying, exacerbates her even further. And somehow she can tell when I’m daydreaming. She smacked me across the face, throwing me onto the hard wooden floor. She hit me a few more times, harder than usual.
“Worthless piece of shit.” She muttered under her breath and walked away. I laid there for a minute making sure she wasn’t coming back for more. When she turned on the television in the other room I knew she was done for now so I got up quickly and ran up the stairs to my room. Slamming the door shut, I turned on my laptop and blasted Black Veil Brides. I stood there motionless for a minute I can’t do this anymore. At Least in my room I don’t need to hide anything, I bursted into tears causing my makeup to smudge all over my cheeks. I laid on my bed for a little bit and tried to relax. I fell asleep.
When I woke up I stood up and checked my clock. 12:25 am. I took off my long sleeve shirt and put on a white tank top and took off all of my bracelets. My best friend probably hates me and wont text me or call me back, my mother is a bitch and wouldn’t care if I left anyways, and I’m tired of living. I got a rope out of my closet and tied a noose then buried my razor blade in my pocket. I climbed out my window and down the tree in my backyard, noose in hand. I tied it onto the tree and sat on the branch silent for a bit debating whether I should end it all or not. Yes.
I called Grayson again, to no surprise I got his voicemail. “Grayson, I’m sorry..but” I paused for a second. “I wont bother you anymore. I’m so sorry I never told you. This is goodbye. Forever.”, I hung up. He’s probably ignoring me. I pulled out my blade out of my pocket and pressed it against my scarred wrist sliding it along slowly. These cuts and scars serenading my skin is the only slightly elegant thing about me. And if I don’t die by bleeding out, I have my noose as a back up. The cut on my arm was bleeding excessively. Pressing the blade to my arm again, I made a few more long, deep cuts, drenching my shirt and arm in blood. I smiled slightly for the first time in awhile. Seeing my blood soothes me. Well, atleast for a little while. I sighed, laying on the branch, watching the blood trickle down my arm.
