zach
I don't know what I was thinking. All I knew is that the razor made it feel better, escape from all the pain I've caused people. One cut became two. Two became four, until eight red lines traced my arm. I put the razor down and look at my arm. The tears slowly start falling own my face and onto my shirt. A few feel onto my bloody arm, it burned but I liked it. I was beginning to forget why I did this. You're hurting too many people. Nobody like gays. You are a disgusting faggot. I remember why. Do I go all the way? The thought keeps crossing my mind. I was so out of it I didn't realize the door had opened. Jonah stood there in shock. The razor still in my hand, and my arm still covered in blood. He just stood there in horror, a few tears slipping past his dark blue eyes. "I'm so sorry," I slowly mouthed causing more tears to fall and my arm to burn. I had completely forgotten about him. He was the only thing keeping me alive. My life support. My everything.
