Shattered

Chapter 1

Hurt. That describes my life. All I get is hurt. Never does anyone care about my feelings. Today in school it went too far.

*flashback to school*
I walked to the front of the school, but was grabbed and dragged to the side of the building where I see my worst nightmare.
My bullies.
Yes bullies. More than one.
The leader of then Andrew kicked me in the side. That's when they all ganged up on me. Where's Mackenzie when I need her.
She's my only friend, but she usually comes in late and consoles me after this happens.
Then things take a turn for the worst. Jake, Andrews best friend, takes something out of his pocket and hands it to Andrew.
It was a blade.
It was my old blade that I used to use in school when things like this happen. I keep it in my locker just in case, but how did they get it.
Dan, my ex best friend, probably gave it to them after we got in an argument.
They threw it in my face.
"Here why don't you cut just a tad bit deeper and maybe do some actual damage," Andrew said throwing the blade into my face.
That's exactly what I was going to do.

*End of Flashback*

I got to the orphanage and as I close the door I get a slap across the face. Mrs. Gina started yelling about me not cleaning my room or putting away the dishes.
She noticed I wasn't listening so she punched me in the jaw. I fell to the ground and she kicked me right where Andrew kicked me.
"That's what you get for not listening!" she screamed in my face and walked away.
That made it clear what I had to do.
Obviously no one wants me here, well maybe Mackenzie, but that's it.
I went up to my room and grabbed the box hidden on the top shelf of my closet.
I dug inside to find my blade, kitchen knife, anti-depressants, anxiety meds, and rope. I open this box daily for my meds, but this time was different.
I grabbed the blade and started to take off my sweatshirt. I changed into spandex so I could put as many marks as possible.
I pulled up my long sleeves to reveal the faded and new scars that I have given myself. I usually only make two marks per day.
One for them and one for me.
They are the ones that do this to me, but I'm the one that lets them.
There was also a note in the box I took it out and but it on my desk.
This was something we call a Suicide Note.
I started making new bloody marks on my wrists. After about 6 cuts (3 on each) I moved to my thighs. 6 more cuts later I'm gushing. my off-white tiled bathroom is now a red bloody mess.
I looked at the rope and pills. I grabbed my anti-depressants, the rope, and a glass of water. I hopped out of my window (good thing I'm on the first floor) and walked over to my favorite tree.
I always used to sit in here to think about school and my crush at the time or even just sit there to think. Now I have to sit here and really think. Should I really end my life like this.

I have made my decision.
I stood up on a branch and tied the rope to the branch above my head. I decided not to take the pills because it took too much time to swallow. (I know lazy right) I tied the rope around my neck. I though for one more second as my toes reached the tip of the branch.
Everything happened in slow motion.
I heard a scream. Someone was screaming for be to stop.
So I did. They came running up to me as if we were best friends.
I sat on the branch with my bloody carved-up wrists as the person untied my neck.
I couldn't see them because of the tears steaming down my face.
But then the tears stopped.