Innocence

The First Cuts

Not even gonna sugar coat it. Read at your own risk. I came up with everything in here on my own. Please don't hate it. If you don't like it, don't read it. Would love feedback, whether it be positive, negative, or otherwise. Have an amazing time reading and please keep in mind, any places, people, or events that happen in here that are similar to real life are completely coincidental. Have fun!!!

There is a little girl. Innocent as could be. She lived with her loving parents, but this is no fairy tale. As the innocent little girl got to be not so little any more her parents divorced, and she learned what the world outside her home was actually like.

- Pollution

- War

-  Gangs

- Homeless

- Starving

- Mental Illness

- Orphans

- And so much more

She couldn't take it. She was so sick of holding all her emotions in. They came out that one night. In the dead of night, while everyone was sleeping, she tip toed to the bathroom. She opened her drawer, grabbed her razor, and sat on the floor. Hesitant, she sat and looked at the razor for a few minutes. Then she took the razor and made a few quick slices on her upper thigh.

It hurt, but strangely she felt relief. All those built up emotions came pouring out in that one thin stream of blood. She went to bed and by morning it was mostly healed, but she missed the pain. The pain that distracted her from school, life, everything.

So what does she do? She becomes addicted, and cuts again. Cuts, and cuts, and cuts, and she just doesn't care anymore. She's numb to the world, and numb to her own feelings. She hates herself? Cut! Her parents were fighting earlier? Cut! She got bullied at school? Cut! Every little thing that happened turned into a cut.

But all those cuts? Where did they go? Always on her upper thighs. She never wore shorts, skirts, or dresses to school, because her legs were so cut up. Nobody bothered to confront her about it.

School ended, summer started, and no one questioned why that girl with the dirty hair, sunken eyes, and bad grades, was wearing pants in 80 degree weather. No one cared enough to find out.

Now mind you the 15, nearly 16 year old girl, lived with her father. He was always either at work, or sleeping. So this girl had plenty of time to be alone with only her thoughts. Well... her thoughts and sharp objects.

She was sick of it. Sick of being alone, and depressed, and in pain. She hated it, but her relief had quickly developed into habit. Just like that, the innocent little girl was gone. She was older, not so innocent, and wanted to kill herself. She was done with life, and everyone in it.