Everyday I ponder the question. Which way? One way leads to the mental hospital. One way leads to the morgue. I cut. I cut deep. It hurts less. Less than the pain I have to suffer through everyday. It therapeutic, really. But the question, every time I pick up x-acto knife, is which way. Should I leave it all behind, or keep going like they tell me to. You might be asking "why do you keep trying?" I wish I could tell you, but I honestly don't know. I sadly cannot answer a simple question. It seems harmless, but that one question buries deep in my mind, slowly pulling apart everything I know about myself, and replacing it with horrendous thoughts. For now, I cut sideways, hiding the burden of the world through cute sweaters. Waiting.
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Sad Short Stories
Short StoryThis is just a collection of some of my short stories that I write. It will be updated frequently, but there will be no schedule or specific days that I'll update. Warning: -suicide - depression -Self-harm
