Too Dead To Die

One more. Do it one more time. Don't be scared. It won't hurt you. You need this.

The voices in my head don't stop. They make it hard for me to think sometimes. They're my friends though. My only friends.

The razor in my hands drags across my arm once more, and I watch the blood pour out. It calms me.

I cover my ears when I hear that voice inside my head again. Damon I like to call him.

"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up." I whisper to him in hopes to get him to stop.

I remove myself from the bathroom floor and clean my cuts before wrapping them in gauze. Its became a routine to end up crying on the bathroom floor at one point during my night.

Worthless.

Disgrace.

He taunts me. He likes to see my pain.

I come out of my bathroom as quietly as possible. I don't want my parents to know what I have been doing. They think I have been making progress, but I haven't.

"Ana, are you okay?" I hear my mother's voice call through my bedroom door.

"Just fine, Mum. Going to sleep now. Love you." I call back to her.

Nobody understands me. Nobody at all. They never will. No matter how many visits to the therapist they send me on. Or how many different antidepressants they give me, it will not change anything.