I'll just cut deeper

Chapter 3

I came home with marks around my neck, nasty hand marks. I had cuts down my face. I looked like I had been dragged repeatedly through a holly bush. I was scared to go home. I didn't want to go there, it was hell. Torture. Things have recently been going further downhill at home, my Mum turned to drugs and alcohol. She's a heavy weed smoker, and a violent alcoholic. Some days I just sit with the curtains shut, in complete pitch black with the duvet over my head. But I can still hear them. I can hear the disgusting druggies coming to our door, causing chaos if Mum can't give them a fix. They've come in before, getting Mums vodka bottles, smashing windows, furniture demanding mum for some weed. Eventually she has to go into her secret stash to make them stop. Some have even come upstairs and barged into my room before. I always think to myself this isn't the right life for a 16 year old. That's when I turn to the blade. I'll run a lukewarm bath to get in. And just cut, watching my scarlet blood run and fill the water surrounding me, mixing my tears into the water. As I walk past the park on the way home from school, I see the little children and their mothers playing. A lump appears in my throat, that was what I always wanted as a child. Just to be happy. Just to hold my Mums hand and laugh and play. I always used to think of stories like that. Like it would be a really sunny day, and me and Mum would be going down to the park. Of course, this never happened Mum never went out. When i was 14 I told Mum I make up stories in my head. I asked her if she wanted to listen to one. I'd spent so much time thinking of it, and writing it. I even drew and coloured the pictures in with such precision, but she just laughed and said stories are for babies. I said that I thought of this one especially for her, she said that it was the most stupidest thing she'd ever heard. Then, ripped up the paper, slapped me across the face, and sent me to bed without tea. I remember sobbing myself to sleep that night, drowning my pillow. I remember that night so clearly. That was when times weren't even that bad! Not compared to what they are now.