Random Minis

Angst.-

Idfk anymore...
I should put a warning shouldn't I?
Yeah...
Well, warning, cutting, depression, blah blah blah ahead.
Read if you will.
I'm not gonna control you. But please don't be upset about what you read. And please don't do as depicted.

     Tears. Blinding, salty, hot tears. Streaming endlessly down the soft cheeks of a lone girl, hidden away in her room. Her shoulders shake with the silent sobs of pain. She's not hurt. Not majorly, in the physical sense. But emotionally. She's torn to shreds, aching with no ease to the agony within. Her chest, physically hurting along with the fresh cuts along her upper thighs. She doesn't bother wiping away the crimson oozing from the small wounds until it threatens to run onto her bed.
     The razor sitting on her desk, basking in the light of a lamp, sat with few of the deeply colored, glistening droplets. Practically egging her on to do worse. Giving her ideas. Thoughts of her wrists. A crimson river flowing from the veins visible on the slender appendage, beneath the skin. A sad smile curls the corners of her lips, her eyes still letting the rivers of tears flow freely. The teary hazel orbs shifted to the note she wrote hours earlier. Proclaiming her love for her family. But utter disgust in herself. Why she felt the need to do it. The need to finally stop bothering her loved ones. Less mouths to feed, less money wasted, more food for them all, more space in the old cramped house.
     More sobs broke free from her, straining her throat and shaking her whole small figure. This time sounds slipped out with them. Small, whimpering cries and whining groans. The tears continued on. The only source of warmth she felt, during this sad episode, was that emitted by the small space heater barely pushing enough heat out to keep the room semi-warm. She couldn't feel her toes, nor her fingers. She felt dizzy. She barely ate all day. She couldn't. Dozens of tissues littered her bed, half covered in blood and half in her tears.
     Her ribs could be seen, visible in the overly stretched skin. Her cheek bones stuck out further than if she were well fed, though they could still be gone unnoticed if one decided not to look too hard. Dark circles lay under her eyes. She hadn't slept enough in weeks. She shook with every strain she put to her muscles, not getting enough nutrients to keep them strong enough. She would never smoke, never take pills without need, though drinking wasn't an issue. Small empty bottles littered the floor around her bed. They were mainly stolen from her mother, claiming to not know where they went when she was questioned. She kept them hidden beneath her bed, only taking a few out at a time to drown her sorrow when it grew to be too overwhelming.
     Her curtains, heavy and denying the sunlight access to the hidden room, were closed as much as possible. The darkness of her room was comforting to her. Some light seeped in from beneath her door, allowing her to see just enough and not fear whatever may be hidden within the shadows. Her episode slowly passed, allowing her to get enough air in to prevent her from passing out. The tears slowed, allowing her some clear sight. She used her sleeve to wipe away the freshly tear-stained cheeks, eyes red from the hours of crying, bawling and sobbing silently.