bright - h.s

one

A/N: HI EVERYONE :)))

This is my first Fanfic so go easy on me. I have big things planned for this story, you don't even know. I can't wait for you to find out!

Btw: my computer doesn't capitalize the "i" on it's own and its a pain to capitalize it every time... and yes, i am aware that there will me A LOT of spelling errors and grammar errors, just don't pay attention to them too much, and enjoy the story :)

This story does talk about a girl in rehab for self harming. Even though it wont be too graphic at times, please do not read if you are sensitive to these types of texts.

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I felt a blade, slicing through my wrist, causing a sharp pain that ran up my arm, like wild electricity. That's when it came out. Thick red liquid, flowing out of the newly made cut, dripping on the floor. The cut was blending in with all the others, pretending like it was one of many, not causing any harm to it's carrier, but it was wrong. It stung. Oh boy did it sting. But that feeling never ceased to make my heart beat fast, my mind race, and my body want more. I squeezed the razor blade that I was holding with my other hand, wanting that slicing feeling on my wrist again. It took my mind off of the mental pain I have been enduring, and settled a physical pain. It was a different kind of pain, but strong enough that I could set my mind on it, not thinking about anything else. A small smirk covered my lips, as a single tear ran down my cheek. If anyone was to see me, in the instance, they would have thought that I was insane, but I wasn't. My mind was focused and alert. Fully aware of my actions. As my eyes stared at the blood, I felt as if everything was okay, even though I knew once I stood up from my bathroom floor, and made my way back to reality, that everything was not okay. Nothing would ever be okay anymore, because everyone hated me, and the people who did like me, i hurt. Then the mental pain came back, and that new cut, presented on my wrist was no longer the one hurting me. 

I woke up, my forehead soaked with sweat. I had that dream again. The one where I recall my self-harm days, where slicing my wrist was the only way out of my problems. I liked that dream. Some people would call it a nightmare, but not me. It was my past, and I can't be calling my past a nightmare, but more of a loss of identity, and a loss of self-confidence. I slide my feet out of my comfy sheets, to find a place in my slippers. Softness came right after that. I let out an irritated sound out of my mouth as I stood up. I hated the rules here, especially this one. '"Once awake, you must immediately go to the cafeteria to eat breakfast." I guess they didn't want us to be in our beds, reminiscing our dark days. I was used to this rule anyways, it has been a year and a half living with them, even though at first I didn't really give a fuck whether or not I was following them. I walked out of my bedroom, and made my way down the hall. I turned a couple times, passing patient's bedrooms, until i reached the end of the hall, and walked down the brightly lighted staircase. 

Once I reached the first floor, a strong smell of bagels, muffins and other breakfast foods overwhelmed my senses. I made my way to the reception desk, stating my name to the women. She nodded, gave me a smile and a plate, with a rubber spoon. We weren't allowed forks or knives here, because of what happened a few years ago. So everything was already pre-cut in pieces so we didn't need a knife, and as for the fork, spoons did the trick. I made my way to the bar where all the food was and picked out what I wanted to eat. Bagel with cream cheese, fruit, and a glass of orange juice. The food here was excellent, even though some people here didn't even eat it, the eating disorder ones. I wasn't one of them though, nor could I ever be. I loved food too much.