The World Is a Wasteland, and I, My Own Misery

The Screams They Never Hear

I bent down and face planted into my pillow.  I let out the most blood curdling scream, yet it was so silent.  No one heard me; no one cared to hear me.  Nothing matters.  Nothing ever mattered. 

I gripped my pillow and flung backwards, laying on my back and sighing.  "Why me," I moaned in agony.  "Why me?!".  I grabbed my blanket and threw it over, bundling my body into a cocoon.  I was claustrophobic, but I loved the feeling of suffocating.  It just felt great, and I craved it.

I threw my blanket off, kicking and gasping for air.  I sat up quickly, pressing my back against the wall, reached over to the dresser I used as a nightstand and rummaged through my mahogany wood jewelry box.  I pulled out a small, blue box and opened it with tears streaming down my face.

I smiled and pulled out the razors.  I had five razors I tediously unscrewed from pencil sharpeners.  Two were rusted, so I threw them away.  "Two down.  Three to use," I thought, laying them out on my bed.  I grabbed them and walked to the bathroom.

I opened the bathroom door, walked in, locked it, then sat on the toilet lid.  I turned on the fan and ran a bath so no one could hear me.  I stripped down and laid out the razors on my right thigh.

I took one and began to cut.  I felt the blade slicing into the skin on my thighs and the sting that followed.  I smelt iron.  It was my blood.  It was dripping onto the floor.  I pulled some toilet paper and folded it, placing it onto the wounds.  I reached over and cleaned the blood on the floor.  Not a spot was left. 

I laughed under my breath, clenching my teeth in a wide smile.  I gripped my arm and began to dig at my wrists.  Then, I went for my arms.  Every movement burned.  I felt a hole in my stomach; I felt hollow, empty.  I felt nothing!

By the time I was done, the tub was full.  I bent down on my knees, turning off the water.  The blood trickled down my arm, dripping into the tub.  Each drop twirled down as it sank.  I stared, emotionlessly.  There was not a spot on my arm I did not miss.  Not a dime on its side could miss a cut.

I sat back on the toilet, setting the blade on the sink.  I picked up the two that landed on the floor, rinsing them off.  I placed them next to the other and chose one.  "Eenie, meenie, miney, mo," I thought.  I slid one into my hand.  The blade danced on my finger tips. 

I gripped it and began to carve words into my thighs.  "Fuck up" on the left, along with "slut" and "bitch".  I carved "WORTHLESS" in big, bold slices on my right thigh.  From there, I carved drawings and a tic-tac toe board.  I began to play, drawing each "x" and "o" into my thigh.

I rinsed all the blades off and set them down.  I stepped into the tub and sunk in.  My hands covered my face and I submerged under the water.  I felt myself drown for a moment.  I missed how the water burned my lungs.  My chest began to feel like fire.  I rested there for a few minutes then came back up.  I flipped the drain up and the water began to circle around it. 

I grabbed a towel and stood up, wrapping myself in it, then picked up my clothes, resting them on my arms, covering my fresh cuts.  I picked up the blades and turned the light off, opening the door and peaking to see if anyone was there.  No one was.  I walked out and ran into my room, shutting the door.  I placed the blades back into the box and put it away. 

I got dressed and fell onto the bottom bunk.  My face hit the pillow and my brunette, curly hair fell flat.  Again, I screamed into my pillow.  Nothing made me feel more alone.  I felt like my only friends were my blades.