It was like any other night, my parents went to bed early and I stayed up. I walk in m room and lock my door and get the blade from my pencil sharpener and began. I would start on my legs and then I would move to parts of my arms that I know that I could cover. There was only one time I ever went to my wrist it was when I reached a point that couldn't be repaired. As I take the blade and begin to cut the feeling of relief would come over. I was nervous the first time I ever did it but the more times I did it the nervousness went away. After I was done I would go to bed and wake up the next morning and act like everything was fine. Over the years it became easier to cover the cuts up which is why to anyone including my parents that looked at me would just think I was a normal high school girl, not knowing that under all of it was a broken person that couldn't be repaired and whose body looked like Edward Scissorhands got a hold of.
I guess before we move on with this story I should explain how I got to this point. Growing up I was always the odd kid out. I wasn't in to the things other kids were in to. I didn't dress like them. I was basically in my whole world and I was fine with that. It wasn't till I got into middle school did it all start falling apart.
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Short Story"It was like any other night, my parents went to bed earlier and I stayed up. I did the same routine every night mostly. I close and lock my door, get my pencil sharpener out and unscrew it to get to the blade. Then I would sit on my bed and take...
