The sharpened edge of the blade tore into her pale wrist, blood already oozing from the fresh cut. There was no gasp of pain, as the young woman felt nothing but the coldness seep into her. The static filled her head with images and words so painful, there wasn't room for anything else. It all overwhelmed her fragile mind, and she picked the blade up for another release, stopping only to make sure no one was near. The dying sunlight outside her window only made the darkness more welcome and the pain more bearable.
After her hatred and pain was spent, the blade was placed back in the case, covered with innocent blood. The young woman's hazel eyes remained deadened, showing no emotion and no trace of what just occurred. Her sleeves were pulled down, flinching only when the fabric brushed against the newest wound among the collection of scars. The physical pain blocked out the voices screaming in her head; it blocked out the memories pushing forward. Her energy bled out just like the blood from ravine in her wrist.
Shadows covered the walls as night set in. Drowsiness had the teen closing her eyes with exhaustion. Gradually, the voices in the living room began to fade, carrying her lingering thoughts with it.
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>>>> Lemme know what you think! - Tori
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Self-Inflicted
Teen FictionThis story is about self-harm and how it looks and feels like from that person's point of view. In these chapters, a teen struggles with obstacles in life and takes it out on herself.
