Deep Cuts {E.D}

{1}

For attention they say. The pain, the cuts, the paintings on my skin. All just for attention. They don't realize that, if we really cut for attention, then why do we try so hard to keep it a secret ? To keep it away from their 'happy world' with the perfect family and friends. It will go away they said but the pain never went away, I just became used to it. My pain healed just like my cuts.

The days go by and I feel like I'm not living. Only because you breathe, doesn't mean you are alive. The only time I feel alive is when I 'paint'. The sharp blade cutting my skin, the red, fresh blood increasing from the wound and dripping off my arm. The pain. The pain is a relief, it shows me that I'm still alive. It actually makes the pain go away. Doesn't make sense ? It does. I'm not talking about the pain you feel when you fall down or break your arm. I'm talking about the pain inside you the pain that doesn't go away. The wounds that doesn't heal. The pain, when your heart shatters into a million pieces. That's the pain I'm talking about. With my 'paintings' I don't feel that pain anymore, I feel relief.

It wasn't always like this. I had a happy life before my parents divorced and my mom moved away with me not even asking me if I was ok with that. New city, new house, new friends and new school. Since I moved here my life turned upside down. The first couple weeks were just fine and I actually found friends. Till I met her. Christine, the devil itself. We were best friends until her boyfriend broke up with her and told her that he was into me. Christine is a very popular girl, one of those that everyone goes out of the way in the hallways. Since the broke up she made me feel the pain she felt when these word tumbled past his mouth. She made me regret breathing. Who would've thought that someone that meant so much to you, one day back stabs you and lets you bleed until your body is limp and out of life and still that's the nice version of what she is doing to me. Since she is popular, everyone else plays the same game and turns my life to hell. Day by day. I don't even know why I'm still living, I guess it's because of my mom. I don't think she will survive another 'bad event' in her life and I really don't want to destroy her, it's the last thing she deserves after what my das did to her. One more year. One more year and I can get out of here. Out of this city, maybe even out if this country. My mom says that in one year a lot can change but to be honest for me there is nothing to change except my life turning more and more into hell. I hope I have the strength to get through this because in these 3 years I lost a lot of strength and hope. Hope a word that I haven't thought of in a long long time. They say hope dies last but my hope died first.

{🥀}