Dear bully,
Even though your bullying has stopped, me cutting hasn't.
I sat on the bathroom floor, my hands trembling, finally finding the blade in my bag.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
I keep going, unable to stop, when I hear shuffling outside the door. I look, and see you standing there with a mortified expression. Shouldn't you be happy like I am?
"W-What are you doing?", you exclaim, running towards me and throwing the blade away. Isn't it obvious? I need the blade to make up for the pain you haven't been giving me. I don't deserve to not feel pain.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Bully,
Random***COMPLETED*** A story of a bullied girl, who writes letters to her bully, but never sends them.
