Delilah Rose

Delilah Rose (11-16-13)

November 17, 2013.

I squeeze my eye lids closed. I just want every thing to go away. I'm afraid of growing up and afraid of now. I fuck up everything. The only thing that keeps me going now a days is my friend Alex. He's so sweet and he's the only one who really cares about me. I love him. My mom walks in the room and my eyes flash open.

"Delilah?"

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

I'm a little confused here because I just told her (and the rest of my family) I hate everything especially myself. Now, they treat me really nice and ask if I'm okay all the time. I liked it at first but now it feels like they are just doing it because I brought attention to it.

"What do you mean?" I ask. My voice is shaky and quite.

"Physically do you feel well?" My mom looks at me like she is studying a pice of modern art. Like she's trying to find out what it means.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I say completely honest. Physically I feel fine. But this is about the 5th time she has asked tonight. "Do I look sick?"

"Yeah! You look tired!"

"Well I am." I laugh a little bit because I know she doesn't understand this but when she says stuff like that it make me feel 100x worse. "I'm going to go to bed."

"Well, okay good night. I love you."

"I love you too." The words burn as I say them. I do love my mother just not now, not when she makes me feel like this. She shuts the door. I wait a little bit looking at the Christmas lights I have hanging in my bedroom. I start to cry, just a couple of tears. I wipe my eyes and stumble over to my vanity. My hand reaches out to the tiny drawer and opens it. I feel compelled to get the razor. I need it. It will help. I pick it up and run it over my arm not cutting the skin yet. The blade is cold and sharp. I close my eyes and try to think of good things in my life. It takes awhile but I think of my dog, Alex and music. I slowly put the blade back and shut the drawer. I walk back to my bed and un-plug the Christmas lights. I stay sitting up in the dark. I close my eyes and pretend I'm cutting my wrist. After a lot of deep pretend cuts I curl up into a ball and fall asleep. Just before my eyes close I see the clock. The time says 12:50am. I'm going to bed earlier then I normally do. That's good. I smile a small smile to myself as my eyes close. I'm dreading tomorrow going back to school. But for now I can escape the horror I am in right now and dream a better life.