This is a story about a teenage girl who lives with her abusive stepfather and birth mother
Bam* Bam* Bam* he hit me three times Ina row. My mother stood in the doorway, watching and crying while she is careful not to interfere. Cause she kno...
Might trigger some so this is just a warning if you are sensitive to self harm...
If you are I will tell you when you can stop reading and skip to the next chapter.
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BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. The hospital monitors beeped and began to speed up as I woke up. Slowly opening my eyes I felt my head pounding and winced in the pain.
With my eyes still closed my hand slowly went up careful not to move the needles and tape on my arm. Finally opening my eyes I noticed that I was in a big bed with soft white sheets around me.
On my right there was a long window that overlooked the city. It was mid day.
The door opened and in came my mother. She walked over to me and sighed. "Thank god you're okay."
I was okay. Physically but not mentally. When mom gave me the news I was so sad I didn't know how to react or what to do. I guess my body decided to pass out.
I wanted to know more so I asked her what exactly happened.
¨Well, um... I don't know who shot him but all I do know is that he was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. The police knocked on the door and they told me.¨
Tears were starting to fall. I miss him. The last time I saw him was when he was here arguing with Enrique. Wheres Enrique? Did he shoot him? Oh that little b-
"Okay so everything turned out to be fine. No concussion or anything" The nurse said looking at the folder that Im guessing is my file.
"Although we would like to ask Jenny some questions if that's alright?" The nurse walked up to my bed and gave me a look saying everything is going to be alright.
"S-sure. Yeah that's fine." I looked at my mom telling her to give us some privacy. She gave me a small nod and left.
"So what's the question?" I asked sitting up.
"While examining you to make sure nothing bad happened we noticed you have some scars on your wrists. Would you care to tell me how and when you got those?" My blood froze. I forgot about my scars.
They weren't that noticeable but can be seen enough to wonder.
"I um..they were from.. uhh" I didn't really know how to tell her. I didn't want to. They will send me back to the terrible psychiatrist they sent me to in middle school.
From the look of her face she knew what I was going to say. "When?"
Looking at my hands I murmured a few years ago.
"Okay" was all she said.
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It was a few days later ans I finally went home. Enrique still wasn't here.
Looking at mom I asked "Where is Enrique?"
"He left."
"What do you mean he left?"
"He picked up his stuff and left me. That's what I meant!"She slapped her car keys on the table and stormed off upstairs.
A smile crept up to my face then was quickly replaced with a frown. I was happy that he finally wont hurt us, but I felt bad for my mom.
Walking up to my room I suddenly was feeling depressed. My depression was coming back and that is never good.
My dad died and I haven't seen him in like 6 months. The last time I saw him I didn't care. Little did I know that was the last time I would see him. And now my mom was mad at me. I started to cry. Softly at first then harder.
It didn't make sense, I know but still. Lying down on my bed face down and started sobbing. My arms hanging off the end brushed against something.
Still crying I sat up to reach the item and pulled out my old diary. I studied the old black leather cover and its worn out pages. I went to my window and started reading some stories.
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(A/N you can stop reading here and skip for people are are sensitive to self harm)
It was a bad idea. I started crying more. Remembering how I though I had true friends that will stay with me forever, but it turns out that they were faker than... There is nothing faker than them.
I finished reading everything. I had an empty feeling in my chest. As I turned the page to the end I saw a blade. Gillette.
I picked it up and just stared.
I finally decided. Shoving my sleeves up I placed the blade to my wrist and swiped.
