Pain. That's all I feel. I smile as I slowly drag the blade across my wrist. I know that I should stop but I can't. I need a way to release the pain I feel. The wound stops bleeding a couple of minutes later. I pull down my sleeve and get ready to leave for school. My parents died when I was 8 in a car crash. As I start walking to school I see the bus full of kids from my school. I hide behind my neighbors trash can so they don't see me. As soon as they pass I stand up and continue my way to school. When the school is in sight I slow down and savor the moments I have left. I walk through the doors and it starts.
"Bitch"
"Slut"
"Whore"
"Worthless"
"Ugly"
And so many more but those are the ones I here. This happens everyday. I don't know why they do it they just do. It doesn't hurt as much as it used to. I guess I just grew used to it.
I head to my locker but when I get there it says in permanent marker "you're so ugly you're parents don't even love you". I'll admit it that hurts considering my parents are dead and I have no other family. But just like everything else I'll get over it.
I am Rosalie Marshall and this is my life.
