Escape // h.s.

Prolougue

Prologue

Adira

(Pronounced ah•DEER•ah meaning strong, noble, powerful.)

"I don't understand why I have a 'unique' name when there's nothing at all 'unique' or special about me at all."

"You're special to me."

"I know and you to me."

I was sitting alone in my bathroom holding my razor blades in my hands pretending they were talking back to me as if they were human. Like my friends. In a way they are my friends. We spend more time together than anyone I've ever met. Then again I've never been so fond of having a friend near me. I would end up pushing them away. So here I sit alone with my razors in my hand. Varying in different sizes and shapes and of course... How much pain they cause. They all are important to me because they are like my emotions. My smallest ones are for when I hear someone call me a name and my eyes only get a bit watery. Those I got from tearing my old razor to shreds until I was left with only the blades in my hand. My medium blade is for when i get pushed around and abused by people who dont even know my name. They just see a weak broken girl and decide to hurt her more. I use an X Acto knife I bought from Target. Its meant for art, my art are my cuts and scars. My largest blades are those days that I just come home completely crying and brittle and just a mess hating myself. It makes me feel a lot better. A lot. Because I get to spend time with my friends. Those I got from some decently big sharpeners from my old pencil box. Of course it was tougher to get the blades but well worth it.

Yes. I know. People may think it's painful. Honestly, I've gotten used to it. There's way worse pain than it. That's the reason I do it. As an escape. People always tell me to die and kill myself. I've tried. Several times. No one knows. No one cares. My parents think I'm just exaggerating. That's exactly why I don't tell them anything anymore. I try to be as distant as possible.

I look over to the toilet. Oh the toilet. How many times I've shoved my fingers down my throat after I ate to be perfect. It's amazing what that toilet has done for me. It's another one of my friends. Yes. I'm anorexic. I've been anorexic for 8 months now. No one noticed. They still see me as crap. They still want me to die. I still want to die.

I stand up and place my blades back in a drawer in my tiny bathroom. I walk out to sit on my bed that makes a squeaking noise as I sit on it. I glance around my room and see my heart shaped frame with... Well nothing. I haven't put a picture in the frame yet. There's nothing to put. I feel like that frame is my life. Empty. Alone. Forgotten. Never loved. Just like me. Love. L-O-V-E is a word not known to me. I've never had 'love'. No one has ever 'loved' me. I was but that was a long time ago. I could barely remember. I could never be loved. People always say "there's a top to every pot" well guess what I say... I'm a broken pot... No top will ever bond with me. I wouldn't want love anyways. It's a horrible thing to have. I don't even know what it means completely. It's unknown to me. Just how I'm unknown to the world. And it will stay that way. Forever.

Just how that frame is right now is how I am. Worthless. I need my escape. I just need to find the right time so nothing goes wrong like the times I've tried before. The first time I happened to be talking to a close friend. She ended up stopping me. The second time I was home alone. I was ready. I was so close. I swallowed a couple Advil pills trying to overdose but I blacked out instead of dying. I thought I was dead but woke up lying on the floor. Still alone. I wanted to escape so bad that day. I couldn't handle it anymore. There's just so much I could take. I'm like glass. Too fragile. Too fragile to be loved. Too fragile to be hurt anymore. Too fragile to have someone too close to me. Just fragile. That's all I was. That's why people never bothered to get near me. The only time I would come in contact with people was when they were yelling in my face or abusing me. The third time I attempted I was going to hang myself with a tie I found in the way back of my dads closet. The days he actually cared. The days he actually tried to be a good dad. I can't remember those at all. Not one bit. I tried to hang myself but then my mom came back from work screaming as always and yelling at me to make the dinner and prepare the house for when my dad gets home so she won't have to deal with him screaming as well. She walked into my room and saw me crying with the tie in my hands but she just rolled her eyes and walked back out.

She didn't care.

I should've been gone that day. Escaped. Poof. Gone. No one would notice anyways. But here I still am sitting alone in my room building my walls higher and higher so no one could get in.

Well this is the prologue :) it's kinda explaining Adira's meaning of escape and showing her self harming, anorexia, her suicide attempts, and a bit of what people do to her and why she couldn't be loved. How she's built her walls so high that no one could cross. Well I kinda cried while writing this it's just me being emotional :') well I hope you enjoyed it <3