Burdened and Burned.

Burdened and Burned {1}.

Your family are the ones that are supposed to protect you from you enemies. Your family are the ones that are supposed to make you happy when your sad or mad. Your family sticks by you no matter what and keep you from harm. I just wish I would have done that for my family.

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I sprinted to my room and shut and locked the door. Hurriedly, I searched for my 'friend'.

Not a pet. Not a stuffed animal. A razor.

No I'm not about to shave my legs or underarms. I'm about to take away the emotional pain that some shit-head had to resurface.

'Flashback'

I walked downstairs since Ellie, my foster mom, called everyone down for dinner.

Damon, a kid that stays with me in the foster home, pushed me and almost sent me tumbling down the stairs if it wasn't for my fast reflexes catching the banister.

"What the fuck is your fucking problem?!" I screamed at him trying to cover up my scared emotion with an angry one from almost tumbling down wooden steps.

"You're my problem! You cried all last night so I couldn't get any sleep you dumb bitch!" He screamed trying to push me again. "You should just kill yourself like you killed your family!"

'End Flashback'

That is why I'm now taking my 'friend' to my wrist and cutting small but deep lines into my skin.

I closed my eyes as the emotional pain of my family started to fade away and the physical pain of cutting myself came at me full force.

Grabbing a towel from my bed, I put pressure on my cuts for about a minute until the bleeding went down. Then I found my black band-aids in my dresser drawer and stuck them on to cover my cuts up.

If you saw my arms, you would probably think I was tortured by a sick, twisted person. If you saw my stomach you with think I was scratched by rabid dogs all over.

If you saw my face you would think I was a pitiful kid that survived a fire from the burn marks that shadowed my features.

I looked in my mirror on my dresser and tried to wipe away the tears that were running down my hideous face.

Yes, I said hideous. The burn marks that ran along my face was anything but pretty and they made me think of that day; that day that I just had to be a stupid, idiotic ten-year-old.

My burns went from the start of my hair to the start of my shoulder and went as wide as from my ear to my nose. They were the same color as my regular skin, a nice pale white, but were shiny and they puckered so they stuck out about a half and inch off my face. If you saw me from my 'good side', as everyone else says, you wouldn't even notice that on the other side of my face was the most horrendous looking scene ever.

If you want to know what happened that day just wait until I was on the verge of sleep and those painful memories came back making me cry myself to sleep every night for the last seven years.

I stared into the mirror trying to find that cute ten-year-old that I used to be. I saw the dark brown shiny hair that fell in waves to my shoulders. I saw the one eye that was a dull blue and one eye that was forever stamped shut. I saw the full pink lips that seemed to always be in a frown. I saw the pale skinned burnt emo girl that nobody understood.

Not standing to look at myself anymore I turned away and laid facedown on my black bed.

There was a knock at my door a couple minutes later. I was confused since no one ever came to my room but I decided to be nice and answer the it.

It was my foster mom, Ellie. She was looking at me worriedly. She knew I cut myself because I was careless one day and forgot to lock my door. She came in and started to cry and tried to talk me out of ever doing it again. I promised her that I would try to only do it once in a while, not everyday like I used to. I've owned up to that promise because the last time I cut myself was two weeks ago when I visited their graves for my birthday.

Ellie was one of the closet people I had to a friend. I didn't consider her a friend because she was almost like a mom but she was way to concerned and forever in my business. But if I wasn't for Ellie, I think I would have ran away from this place years ago.

"Are you coming down for dinner Ebony?" She asked me in her soft voice. Her big brown eyes were seconds from tears and from the puffiness under them I could tell she was crying earlier. Its not unusual to see her cry. She is a very emotional person that wants to help every needy child she can. And that's why her huge house is filled with twelve children.

"I'm not hungry Ellie."

She shook her head. "Nonsense. Ill bring you a plate if you don't feel up to coming down."

I watched her as she limped down the stairs slowly having just fell down them a couple of days ago from one of the younger kids leaving their toys around. I was really worried that night when she fell because she had to go to the emergency room. She says she's fine but I see how much I hurts for her to walk.

"Ellie. Ill just come down to get my plate so you wont have to come back up here." I told her while going beside her and helped her take some of her weight off her left hip.

She smiled at me and I smiled back.

Ellie was the only one, other than her husband, that didn't stare at my scars like they were still burning. That's one reason why I respect them so much and why they are the only ones that can make me smile.