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Chapter 2

Bella's POV

I woke up, finding it hard to even open my eyes. How long have I been laying here? Looking at the familiar concrete floor, I can tell I'm still in school. 'Huh guess no one cares about a dead girl lying on the ground' I thought to myself.

I laid there for a little while longer, not moving, just enjoying the peace and trying to gain enough energy to open my eyes and lift myself up. I checked for my phone and looked at the time. 5:32pm huh, missed a whole day of school. Might as well go home now since I barely have enough energy to walk and I looked like I just survived a car crash. Plus, I really don't want to bump into Harry again.

I gradually hoist myself up and start walking slowly, trying not to fall. Each step I took hurt, like knives stabbing me in every direction. I try walking a little faster, ignoring the pain. I noticed the dry tears on my face. I was a mess! My mascara was smeared all over my face and my lip was busted. Harry has never been that aggressive before. I couldn't believe it! He just left me there to die!

I notice that I've started to cry again. I wasn't crying because I was upset, not because I felt sorry for myself, but I was crying because of how angry and frustrated I am. I'm angry at Harry for what he's done to me. I'm angry at myself for letting this happen. If I had stood up for myself the first time he did it, it wouldn't have gotten this bad, but no, I had to be the weak one. I still don't know what I've done to deserve so much if hate. What did I do to deserve this?

I start running. I don't care I people are staring at me. They don't know anything. Plus, it's none of their business anyway.

I trip a few times, I'm guessing because of the impact of my head hitting the floor. As soon as I see the door to my house, I run faster, hoping to lock myself in my house, away from everyone. I pray that my dad hasn't gotten home yet.

After going inside and seeing that my dad isn't home yet, I run upstairs, straight to my bathroom and lock the door. I don't even want to look in the mirror again, I know I look horrible, but I have no choice.

I sigh and turn to look at the mirror. I flinch as soon as I see myself. I have a red hand print on my face from where Harry slapped me, I have black streaks down my face from the mascara smearing when I was crying, and my lip is busted, and dried blood covering it. I peel my too off, just leaving me in my bra and stare at the damage that was done to me. Purple bruises covered almost every inch if my body, I try touching my rib, but pull away almost immediately because it's too painful.

I start crying again. I can't stand the pain anymore. I don't normally cry, but sometimes, when things are just too much to handle, I just break down. I curl up in the corner, choking on my sobs. I sit there crying for ages, not being able to bottle up my emotions anymore. After a few hours, I get up and limp over to my drawer. I look at the one that makes the pain bearable.

The blade.

I grab it and start cutting at my wrists.

One cut.

Another cut.

Another cut.

Another cut.

I continue till there's about 6 cuts, letting the blood seep out, and letting myself go numb.

When I calmed down a little, I crawl into the shower and stood there under the hot water. I just stand there, staring at the wall. Feeling nothing. Feeling numb.

I decide to get out and go to bed. I haul myself out of the shower, using the walls to support myself. I wrap the towel around me and rush to my bedroom. I dried myself and changed into an oversized sweater and long sweatpants, wanting to be as comfortable as possible. I turned all the lights off, shut the curtains to make sure the room was pitch black, and laid down on my bed slowly, trying not to move too much. Once I got comfy and my head hit the pillow, I was out like a lightbulb.

A/N

HEY GUYS! THANK YOU FOR READING THIS BOOK SO FAR. I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!;)

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