Worthless

Only The Beginning

Crying. Blades. Blood. Pain. I can't live anymore. Not like this. Not loved. Let me die.

"KALYANA! GET YOUR UGLY ASS OVER HERE" called my mom

"Coming" I said

My mom took on drugs too much after my dad died last month. Even when my dad was alive. I would get abused, nonstop. I walk downstairs seeing my mom drinking again.

"DIDN'T I TELL YOU TO CLEAN MY ROOM" she yelled

"It's already clean mom" I said

"DON'T TALK BACK TO ME MISS"

"I wasn't- I mean I'm sorry mom, please don't hurt me" I said backing up

"MEET ME IN THE ROOM NOW!" She yelled.

I go upstairs, and as I go up I count the steps to forget why I'm going upstairs. 1,2,3,4....10,11,12....18,19 steps. I walk across the hall to my moms bedroom. Blue paint, messy, dusty, and dirty. I walk in when I felt a sudden push to my back. It was my mom, punching me from behind. She punched my arm repeatedly.

"YOU CAN NEVER DO ANYTHING RIGHT. YOU'RE A WORTHLESS LITTLE UGLY CHILD. NO ONE LIKES YOU. NO ONE CARES FOR YOU. YOU SHOULD DIE. NO ONE WILL EVEN CARE OR NOTICED IF YOU DIED. I WOUDLNT SHOW UP FOR YOUR FUNERAL. NO ONE WOULD." My mom said to me.

The surprising thing is that it was true. Everything she yelled was true. When she finally found the courage to stop, she did, and left. I lid there, on the floor crying, curled up in a ball and I held myself.

I found the courage to stand up in the dark. I walked really slowly to the bathroom, wishing that my mom haven't seen me. As I went in, I close the door as quickly as possible, with my back against the door. Still crying. I turned around to see my face in the mirror, to see the yellowish colored wall in the back, to see my brown flippy hair against my face, to see how my green eyes are fading.

"Your ugly, worthless, stupid, pathetic, emo, fat, why are you even living? You barely have friends, your ugly. Everyone said it, everyone knows it, your just a dumbass loser just like your old friend, Carly, described you. You just a nobody, that is how everyone sees you. A nobody." I thought to myself,crying.

I looked at the side mirror, and opened it, like it was a door. Inside, was a blade. Not a sword blade, or anything unreal. It was a small, silver, and sharp. I stared at it for a while, then... I put the blade to my skin. Deep enough into my skin that I would bleed. I would slide it across my skin, multiple times. Maybe around the 15th one I stopped, the see the blood from all 15 cuts, just drip. Dripping on the floor, in the sink, and on my clothes.

I washed the blade, and my arm off. I also put the blade back into the side mirror, behind all the other junk so it wouldn't be noticeable. I had my black sweater tied around my waist. I put my sweater on to cover all my scars on my arm.

" Yes? Hi, I would like to sign my daughter to school. Yes she does. What? Oh ok. Next week? Cool, sound great." I overheard my mom talking on the phone. Sounds like in going to school. Fuck. I didn't want to think about anything anymore.

I came out the bathroom, holding my arms, holding my head down. Feeling sorry about myself.

I went inside my bedroom. So cold and dark. Beside my bed was the window. I walked towards the window, looking at the bright full moon. Have you notice the word Kalyana...it means beautiful, and my surname Lune means moon. "Beautiful Moon". Kalyana Lune... My names doesn't describe me as well, you know.

At that moment, thinking about how beautiful the moon was, and how I wasn't, made it easier for me to fall alseep.

This week is school, and my scar hasn't faded a bit yet. I can't go to school looking like this, it's stupid. My mom expected me to walk to school on my own.