I felt like it was only getting worse. It wouldn't get better. Being tired was getting to be a regular thing. I never wanted to be in contact with people. I always wanted to be alone even though I desperately wanted someome to love me. At that point I started cutting. It wasn't bad just enough to let out stress. No one suspected a thing. Now that I look back though, I guess no one cared.
YOU ARE READING
The Help That Never Came
Non-FictionJust some storys of how I used to feel before I found my own happness. I hope you enjoy☺.
