Troubled Minds || Luke Hemmings (On hold)

I

Like a cutter

I craved someone

Who would understand

Like one with an eating disorder

I craved someone

Who would think I'm good enough

Like a suicidal person 

I craved someone

That would make me feel alive

-

J-u-m-p. 

One word.

Four letters.

A single syllable.

A verb.

A four lettered, single syllable word with a literal meaning.

The only fine line between life and death.

Daisy's heart of stone hammered hard against her protruding chest as the radiant creme colored lights that hung along the top half of the Brooklyn bridge became a blur. 

Daisy's vision had been nothing but a blur since she ran out her front door. The tears continued spilling from her eyes and down her pale, flushed cheeks as she made no attempt to stop running, even if it would risk her getting hit by an oncoming car. Not that she would mind though. 

Her dark eyes found it nearly impossible to concentrate on the bottom of the 276 foot drop. The water was restless and black; crashing loudly, although Daisy's heart was vibrant and piercing. 

She couldn't feel anything besides the cool, damp air, that whipped her hair all about.

Thoughts had been filling her head. Millions of thoughts.

What would mom think? Would she be disappointed? Sad? Ashamed? Would she miss me? Would she be relieved? What about Rosey? I was supposed to look after her. Be her role model.

What would everyone in school think? Would I still be the freak? The weirdo? Or would they feel sympathy towards me? Would they feel bad for how poorly they had treated me?

No.

No one would care. They'd all be happy that I am gone.

Nobody cares about me.

No one loves me.

No one would miss me.

I am worthless.

A screw up.

The freak.

The girl who's good at nothing.

The ugly one.

The fat one.

The lonely one.

The sad one.

The one with no friends and is hated by everyone.