~
I got home right after school, filled with rage and sadness. Thankfully it was Friday so my parents weren't back from work yet. I headed to my room and sat down on my bed. I couldn't believe what happened earlier in the day with Cam. I felt an urge to take out all my anger, so I reached under my matters and pulled out a ziplock bag with a razor.
I didn't have to do this, but it seemed like the best option for me at the moment. My hands were trembling as I took out the blade. I knew this wouldn't solve anything, and I didn't care. I needed something to get my mind off. At first I always thought cutting would hurt, but after awhile, I got used to it. I somehow found comfort in watching the blood drip from my fresh wounds. Sometimes it stung to slice open the healing scabs, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through it. After all, when your life is rough, you learn to deal with things.
Finally, I couldn't take it. I threw my stuff on my shelf and watched it clash to the ground. I went to my dresser and took a picture frame of Cameron and I, then smashed it on the ground forcefully.
"Why doesn't he want me in his life!?" I cried. I went to bed with my open injuries stinging, and feel asleep crying.
