I sit in my room, surrounded by darkness and silence.
I stare at the wall covered in soft pastel colours but all I can think about is violence.
I rub my eyes and distract myself from the things I think about all day.
I never used to be this way.
My mind starts to wonder if my life is all a mistake and if I'm meant to be here just to hold on to my parents fake smiles and fake kisses and all of their hate.
I hold it in hoping no one will see, the dead in my eyes and the picture engraved deep into my wrists and thighs.
I paint on my face to hide my wet and burning eyes, hoping that mask of makeup can hold it in just one more time.
I love to cry out in silence , so no one hears the pain but yet they see it, but not one "Are you okay?"
The urge to rid my life is strong and over powering. It takes the pills and draw up the water bill and yet my family doesn't suspect a thing. I don't fit in and I really do try. I go to the nurses office just to lie down and process my emotions. I catch up on my life. What am I kidding... the urge is there and it won't go away.
I walk out of the room and into another where I draw the blade out of my pocket. I paint a picture for the world to see as I carve a line down. Down to show my pain. Drip by drip, it became a pool. The red ink stains my shoes. I start to walk away leaving a trail.
I slowly fade as I walk far away. A forest is in my presence so I lay in my grave, dizzy and light headed, I draw once more time with the blade. The sharp line drew deep, my good memories give me piece.
Authors note:
Everyone deserves a second chance in life.
Please comment and vote if you like it and leave me some ideas and I'll put them in my next chapter! Love you guys xoxoxo
