Jeff The Killers Blade

Chapter 17

Scars P.O.V:

What am I gonna do?! There is no way in the world I am leaving this bathroom. Maybe no one saw my razor, but i doubt it. I mean, my luck has never been too good. What if Tyler thinks I'm trying to copy or be like him? I'm not, i just suddenly realized the only way to deal with my emotional pain was to cut. Still, even though he does it, he'll hate me...forever.

The voices were right, i don't deserve anything. No Jeff, Tyler, Loving Parents, Clean Wrists....Life.

That slutty girl's words lingered in my mind:

"So you tried to kill yourself. Huh? If I were you, I'd try again, because, hun, no one likes you."

She was right, so, so, so, so right. Tyler didn't even stand up for me! But then again, he hates me.... But he could've been scared. I mean he's bullied too, not as bad as I am though. I really don't mean to sound all 'my life is horrible, no one likes me boo hoo but this is just what i'm thinking, and sadly it's all true.

Jeff's face entered my mind... how could he love a girl so..so weak?! So pathetic! So damaged. So broken. So fat. Ugly. Disgusting. Fucked up.

How could he love a freak of nature who was never meant to be born?! I know for a fact i wasn't meant to be born.....

《FLASHBACK》

"Oi! Scarlett you little bitch c'mere!" I heard my dad's deep, slurred voice call.

"Uh-oh!" I whispered to myself. I was in the middle of cleaning the cuts my parents had given me on my wrist. They sure were odd. They loved to see my cuts closed, or bettet yet infected. They also only liked seeing my bruises at there worst, all black and green; seeing my injuries like this made them laugh and smile...proud of their work. But seeing the bruises still forming, or my cuts still bleeding and open made them irritated or mad even. Its like they couldnt even wait to see the results of their work.

I sighed, my cuts were still bleeding! I see a pathetic excuse for a jumper on my bed and decide it'll have to do. I rush out the door, trying to put it on as i stumble down the stairs.

I limp to the lounge room, where i see my mother sitting on the lounge with her arms crossed, one leg on top of the other.

(A/N: If that makes sence, like ya know she's sitting and one leg is over de other?!...ya!)

She looks at me with a wicked smile plastered on her face. My mummy is beautiful, for sure. She just chose to be ugly on the inside and dress disgustingly.

She had long, natural ash blonde hair which i have inherited. A beautiful face and figure. Her eyes were an emerald green, her skin was flawless; sure she wore make-up. But not much of it. She was quite tall, about 175cm tall. Skinny as a rake.

At the moment she was wearing black fishnet stockings, with a darkish red skirt coming just slightly above mid-thigh. Her black singlet about 3 sizes too small showed off quite abit of her ummm chest. She had dark red heels making her 180cm tall. They were wedges. She had a red necklace, earings, lipstick. She had a smokey cat eye effect and was naturally quite pale.

She looked ever so young for a 26 year old. She looked 10 years younger, but still mature looking.

Then there was my dad....He had black hair, styled to go straight up. He reeked of beer, as usual. He had on blue jeans, and a black t-shirt. He wasn't wearing shoes, he dosen't tend to when he's walking around in the house. He was also quite handsome, his blue eyes sparkly and peircing made girls drool over him. He's 28, but seems, just like mummy, 10 years younger.

"Come here!" My mother, Ariel, snapped. Such a beautiul name, for such a foul and mean woman. I did so immediantly, standing right infront of her. "Sit!" She barked, in less the a second i was on the ground, legs crossed looking at her expectingly.