Dying | Tronnor

One

"Wanna go to the movies?" Nicola, my sister, asked. "No" I replied, trying to hide my dry and hoarse voice. She left and I pulled down my duvet to reveal a bloody steak knife and more blood on the sheets. I listened to hear the car start and I knew my family was gone. I pulled off my adidas sweater and held up the steak knife.
Useless, unimportant, worthless, ugly, fag, stupid, gross, nothing, retarded
The words bounced around in my head, taunting me, causing me to cut farther up. I had at least 30 cuts on my arms.
Die, nobody cares, nobody wants you
Tears streamed down my face. I put down the knife and ran my hand through my hair. "What have I done." I cried looking down at my bleeding arms. "I can't live with this, it's-it's ugly." I got up slowly and put my feet on the floor, pushing my self up slowly. "Ugh" I yelled falling over. I crawled into the bathroom and stood up. I pulled the the piece of wood out of the back of the cupboard. It had my bandaids, Xanax pills that my mom thought she lost and my weed I have been doing to ease the pain. I grabbed the Xanax bottle and held it in my hand.
Do not consume more than 2 of these pills a day, unless specially prescribed
I read to myself.
Smoke, cry, cut, die its the perfect order!
The voices in my head screamed, I thought about that for the next half an hour than that turned into a hour, then two. After two hours and ten minutes of thinking it over and repeating the "order" I popped open the bottle. I ran down stairs and made sure no one was home I grabbed a cup and ran back upstairs. I looked in the mirror while filling the cup with water. I had red eyes from crying, my hair was tangled and greasy and my arms were bloody. Once the cup was full I started taking the pills one by one. After about 20 I felt really light headed but I continued until I fell over on the the floor. I looked around everything was blurry and slowly fading into a black blur.