Silenced tears.

Prologue

Katlyn's P.O.V

I quietly shut the front door and don't think twice before sprinting out onto the street. My feet were clad with white socks that were now blood stained around the cuffs. Tears roll down my face as I run through the snow, leaving drops of blood in my wake, the blood is forced to the back of my legs by the wind and the blood from my wrists either falling off in drops or curling itself around my hand. I run under the streetlights and through the streets.

Mother, father, I think, this is your fault. Why won't you love me anymore? Why do you hate me? Why do you hurt me all the time??

These are the questions that have haunted me for years, but of course, I already know the answer. Michael. My older brother, he committed suicide when I was 10 and he was 16. No one knew why but in his note it simply said,

I'm so sorry. Take care of each other. I love you all and it's not your fault.

Bullshit, I think to myself. It was my fault he did it, that's why my parents hate me, why they abuse me. Luckily, they haven't hurt my older brother, Lucas.

I stop in my tracks, Lucas. What would happen to him? Although he was older than me by two years, he was my best friend and the only reason he hasn't been hurt is because of me, I get the bruises, I get the beatings and mean while he thinks I'm just clumsy. He has no idea.

I fall to the ground and sob. I can't leave Lucas, my little Lukey, I couldn't do that to him. i make a sound that could barely pass for a laugh at his nickname, but that laugh turns into a hiccup and the hiccup turns into an anxiety attack. I start wheezing and I halted to a stop, clutching at my chest as I tried to get air into my lungs. I staggered to the side of the footpath and slid down the light post, trying to calm down. I couldn't. I was gasping in the snow and I felt light-headed and I couldn't breathe. I clutched my shirt, just for something concrete to hold onto.

Finally, my breathing slowed and I could actually retain some oxygen. I'm pretty sure my face was purple and my hair was a dishevelled mess. I sigh and shakily stand on my legs, they felt like Jell-O. I swallow hard and feel that my throat was sore and dry, I start walking home and look down at my legs. They both had overlapping cuts on the entire thigh, big, small, shallow or deep, I could barely see my skin because the dried and/or fresh blood rolling down. Same with my arms.

I realise keep my eyes on the floor as I follow the trail of blood 'home'.

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I know that this is short but i honestly didnt know what to write. i was obviously quiet depressed while writing this. Please comment, vote, follow all that jazz. thankyou

love ya

~Emma.