Sinking

I watch the seconds on the clock tick by as my teachers voice drones on. After what seems like forever, the bell rings and I grab my stuff as fast as I can and leave.

As I'm walking out I hear a voice call my name.

"Hey freak. I didn't see you in the lunchroom today. Was it because you were eating in the library, too afraid to show your ugly face?"

I just put my head down and keep walking.

"Haha, what a loser."

A hand then comes up and grabs my shoulder and spins me around.

"Hey freak, did you hear me? Or are you deaf too?"

"Erica, please just leave me alone." I say, pleading her to stop.

"I'm just telling the truth. Your just a slutty freak who will never amount to anything. Just face the facts. But if you insist on telling yourself that you'll be pretty one day, or that your not a complete outcast, just know that your telling yourself a lie." She says with a grin on her face. The girls around her all snicker and laugh, then they turn around and walk away. I walk fast towards my car, not wanting anyone to see my tears. I crawl into my car and begin sobbing. The sad thing is, she's right. I'm a complete outcast, no one likes me, and I'll never be as pretty as them. I'm a complete failure.

I wipe away my tears and start driving away, back home. When I get home I see my dad passed out on the couch, several bottles of beer around him.

He didn't used to drink, but after my mom died in a car accident he began drinking almost everynight. I quickly walk past him and into my room.

I sit down on my bed and check my facebook, and as usual I have several messages that say "Slut", "Whore", "Ugly", "We all know you slept with Aaron Andrews" (Which I actually didn't, Ericka made up that rumor), "Go kill yourself already". I begin crying again, unable to stop. This is how it's like everyday, this cycle of rumors and hate. I just can't take this emotional pain anymore, it's killing me from the inside out. Theres only one way I know how to express this pain.

I walk over to my dresser and open up my sock drawer where I hide my blades. I roll up my sleeves and look at the red scars running up my arms. I find an empty space and slide the cool blade against my skin, watching as little droplets of red blood form. I drop the blade and lie there in my bed, thinking about how I could possibly deserve this.