Mom: What's going on
Me: Not much how about you? (Oh I just keep self harming and I don't know why.)
Mom: Are you sure?
Me: Yup! (Don't look at my ankles. That's gonna scar.)
Mom: Oh by the way, what happened to your ankles?
Me: Oh I hit the back of the stairs at Dad's. (Read the subtext. I cut them with a thumbtack.)
Mom: Ooh ow.
Me: I gotta finish that algebra homework. (I am going to go rethink my life and probably cry and text my boyfriend about my life and just want to die for the next, IDK hour and a half.)
Mom: Oh okay, tell me if you need help.
YOU ARE READING
Things I Wish I Had Said
Non-FictionA collection of thoughts that should have been spoken, should have been blurted out instead of bottled up inside.
