A New Me

I sat there. Thinking that today would be the last time I would ever see the sun light poor through my windows in the morning.

I don't know why I felt the need to live anymore. I wasn't pretty. I didn't have shiny hair. I don't have defined cheek bones. Hell, I don't have a beautiful face. I have nothing but bones and some cut up skin. Every time I think things will get better. Just the slightest bit, it turns to utter shit. Every time I thought someone would magically appear somewhere and save my life, it goes so much worse. So thank you world. Thank you for being such an ass to me..

Stupid me. Stupid, stupid me. I thought things could get better. I don't even know why I would think about that for a millisecond. The world is such a cruel place. I would sit around all day and pathetically listen to all of these damn perfect celebrities' people call their "idols" give all of these speeches about how you don't need a blade, you don't need pills, or starving yourself to make you feel perfect when either they don't know what the fuck they are talking about or they are just making up bullshit to tell people.

Everyone thinks going up to you and saying stuff like "I love you" or "your beautiful" will make them feel better about themselves when all its doing is reminding them that no one cares about them and thinks they are pathetic, stupid, worthless, and ugly. I can never get past the fact that about 78 percent of the people in this world feel good about their body/personality.

As for the rest of the 20 something are feeling less and less good about themselves every fucking day.

As I look back up at the white wall I've been staring at for what feels like years, I think more about how all of the perfect, peppy, perky girls have no worries in their life except that they have to get good grades and stay in school, get a good job, meet a great guy, and live in a big home, then their perfect.

I think about the fact that I have no friends, and that as soon as I let someone in, then it becomes a disaster and almost end up dyeing. I can't have the right person I want, and I can't let them in.

I think about my life.

Then I think

I don't have a life. I have nothing. I don't have a dad, I don't have a friend - I j practically don't have a mother - I have no fucking plat to talk to.. Nothing that lives, or feels alive to me.

All I have is a fucking book that I write in every day and cant think straight. The only thoughts that are ever positive is that one day, I will die.

That's what I look forward to in life. Death. No one can live forever. No one.

I just want someone who will listen to me and care for me. I hate life. Enough said. I fucking hate my life. I hate this world. I hate people. I hate the ground. I hate my "mother". I hate air. I hate, I hate, I hate. I know I am complaining all of the time, but I really can find no source of fun in my life. My only escape from the world is writing in this journal, cutting, hiding, or my favorite thing - sleeping.

I wish I could sleep forever. I wish there was no such thing such as awake. I don't know.

All I know is that I wish the world would just eat me up already and spit out my bones. Every time I wake up in the morning, I feel like I am going to shoot myself in the head. All I want from god - just this one thing- is for him to take my life. Take it right in front of me. If it makes scene.

I know the brain makes you seem 5 times prettier in the mirror than you actually are.. but I honestly felt 5 times uglier.

That's it.

I struggle to stand up, and try numerous times, and when I finally do, I walk slowly over to my drawer next to my bed, and take my phone out. With shaky fingers, I hold it up above my head, more tears spilling out on my cheeks, and not because of what I'm about to do, but because what's going to follow afterwards. I can't do this.

I put my phone on my bed.

I put my head in my hands. I cried and cried till the noon. That's when I limped over to the drawer again and pulled out my closest friend. A blade.

I shakily brung it up to my wrists and got ready to cut deep. Deeper than I have ever cut. I was ready. I've been ready. I laid it down on my wrists gently. That's when I added pressure on the blade. I wasn't planning on slitting my wrists, but just simply cut really, really deep. I let out a yelp once the blade got super deep into my skin, and picked up a t shirt thrown on the floor so I could bite onto it so my "mother" couldn't hear me.

Soon, I felt like I was about to pass out..

So that's what I did.

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Hey guys so that's I guess the ""description"" of the story and I hope you liked it. Also just as a warning this book includes stuff such as self harm, sexual content, strong langue , bad writing lol ect ect. Anyways I hope you like itttt, and please be sure to check out my other story "RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME"

BIG NEWS RIGHtttttTT HERE PLEASE READ.

so I pant know who this story will be about so if you want me to choose a lucky person pleeeeaaassseee comment who this story should be mainly about (1/5 of the boys :))