**Author Note** If you're currently recovering/recovered from self-harm or suicidal thoughts, I do not suggest you continue reading this chapter. I'm just warning and looking out for all you lovelies, don't do this to yourselves. I love you.
After getting a running start away from Connor, I collapsed on a cold hard chair in the lobby. I sat there staring at a beautiful blond teenager on the front of a magazine cover. She was thin, a lot thinner than I was of course; everyone was. However, she did not look happy. She looked distraught and her smile was fake. How could she not be happy? She was so skinny and beautiful.
My thoughts were interrupted by Connor hobbling over and plopping down next to me. "I didn't mean to lose my temper," he started. "Save it," I started to get up. "You're always going to be apologizing for getting angry, but you're just going to keep doing it." He grabbed my arm. "Lil," he whispered. "Please."
I sat back down. "I can't lose you," he voice cracked. "You mean so much to me. You cannot keep doing this to yourself. You're already so beautiful...” "No. That's where you're wrong. I will never be beautiful. I will never even be pretty. Hell, I will never even be worth anything. Just leave me alone." I ran off to the bathroom, fighting back tears.
I was so alone and yet I kept pushing away the people who tried to help.
*****
It was the next day, after Connor had been discharged. Vanessa and Luke were busy fussing with Connor to get him to the car. I trudged behind all of them, staring blankly at my feet and nearly running into people. I was just too tired and numb to care.
There was an awkward silence in the car and I had sensed that Connor told Luke and V about what happened in the cafeteria. I was tired of it all. All this drama, all of these lies. What was the point in life anymore? I was never happy. I had no friends that truly cared about me. I had nothing left in life besides this blackness that was taking over me, and the annoying bitch telling me I was never good enough. So what's the point?
By the time we pulled into Connor's driveway it had gotten dark and everyone was in a solemn mood. "I'm going to go work on dinner," V announced. "I'll come help," Luke chimed in. "Would you mind helping me inside?" Connor turned to me. I nodded.
I got Connor settled in the living room and made sure he wasn't moving anytime soon. I kissed his forehead and whispered, "I love you so much. Never forget that." Without waiting for a response, I made sure Luke and V were busy in the kitchen, and then I made my escape. I quietly made my way upstairs.
I locked myself in the bathroom and opened my bag. I took out my blade and let the relief and pain take over. Deeper, the demon inside me hissed. Your own mother doesn't even love you. She's ashamed that you're her daughter. She could have gotten someone much better. Your friends don't even like you. Why do you think they all abandoned you and don't talk to you? You're a pathetic girl who no one loves. Deeper. I pressed and glided the blade harder across my arm over and over but it wasn't enough. It didn't make me feel alive anymore.
Blood dripped onto the floor but I didn't care. Once I got dizzy, I sat down on the side of the tub, my arms and clothes stained red. The sad thing about this, is I didn't need a reason. Nothing tragic has happened to me. I was just weak and pathetic, I couldn't handle life. I was tired of the emptiness; I was tired of the pressing urge to hurt myself. Well now, I was finally doing it. For good.
I dismissively pressed a paper towel on my both of my arms and opened the medicine cabinet. Tylenol, 200 mg. That's not nearly enough. I sorted through a few more bottles of various shapes and colors, but with no labels. Who doesn't label their pills? I thought.
Next, I found a fairly full bottle of Ambien. Sleeping pills; jackpot. I snatched that, the weak Tylenol and two other random bottles. Don't back out you weak bitch. You couldn't live to listen to me, so now you don't deserve to live. I was your everything.
I started hysterically crying and shaking suddenly, making it impossible to uncap the bottles. They really seemed to teenage-proof these things as well as childproof. Do you know how to do anything right? Quit your crying and get moving. You don't deserve life nor do you deserve anyone. No one will care when they find you dead.
I started silently screaming as the bottle flew from my hands once I jerked it open and the pretty colorful pills went flying. Tears were pouring off my mascara-streaked face and blood continued to spill everywhere. I doubled over and crumpled to the floor. I clutched the remaining three bottles and continued to sob. No one. I had no one. And that was okay, less people to hurt.
I extended a weak and sticky arm and picked up a handful of pills. I slowly and painfully pushed myself up to a standing position. Dancing stars took over my vision, but I managed to take one look at my pathetic and pale reflection in the mirror. I shoved the pills into my mouth. I didn't know how many it was but I prayed that it was enough. I turned on the faucet and gulped down the cold, bitter water.
Tick, tick tock. I stood there in the near silence, gripping the counter for support, listening to my last seconds present themselves on the noisy clock.
I remember starting to fall.
I hit my head on something hard.
Heart beating slow but louder and louder.
Eyes closing for good.
Blackness.
**Author Note** Really sorry about the cliffhanger guys. I promise to write Chapter 15 soon. I just wanted to get these thoughts out of my head. Comments, votes, and questions are always welcome. If you have been having any feelings I described in this Chapter, inbox me. I'm not lying when I say that I understand. Love you all, Andie. xox
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Living with Ana
Novela Juvenil"Society seems to think doing this to teenage girls is okay, but it really isn’t. It was society who taught me that I wasn’t good enough, that it would be so hard to love myself. It all started when I was hardly thirteen. Barely old to enough to rea...
