Lost and Found

Chapter 2

Hello again everyone! Thank you so much for reading the first chapter of my story. I know it was short but i promise the chapters will get longer and better! Leave comments below and let me know what you think of my story! thanks! :)

~~~Emily~~~'

I dont even remember falling asleep last night, but i woke up wearing the same clothes i had on all day yesterday. The clock read 7:30 am. it was too early for me to be up on a Saturday. yawning, i sit up and try to regain a steady line of sight because my head is spinning. i finally stand up, slip in my zebra print fuzzy slippers, and slowly slouch my way into the bathroom.

i throw my blonde hair up into a messy bun, wash my face and put a fresh pair of contacts into my baby blue eyes. The more I look at myself in the mirror the more i see of my mother. light hair and features with a complementary tan complexion, long lean legs and perfect curves, just like my mom. seeing how much we look alike brought back a flood of memories i didnt want to relive. becoming upset and angry very quickly, I furiously pnched the mirror sending shards of glass spiraling to the floor, suddenly, a sharp shooting pain sprints up my arm causing me to flinch and scream out in agony. i callapse to the floor cryng out in pain and frustration. i pound my fist that isnt bleeding on the grey tile flooring shattering it, sending another round of fierce pain through my body. gritting my teeth in an attempt to prevent myself from screaming, i sat in the now destroyed and dissheveled bathroom crying.

I must have sat in that exact spot for six hours crying and having a pity party for myself. After crying out all the tears my body could possibly produce for one day, i slowly rose from the floor careful in trying to prevent afflicting anymore unessacary wounds to my all ready tattered body,

Slowly and painfully walking to the kitchen to asses the damage i had caused in my most recent temper tantum, i blocked out all my surroundings careful to avoid eye contact with all mirrors and any pictures of my recently dead mother. i still didnt feel comfortable saying that. anytime i heard or saw the word mom i broke down and cried for hours at a time. i couldnt do that right now because i already cried enough for one day and already caused enough damage for a lifetime.

by the time i made it to the first aid kit in my kitchen cabneit, i had noticed many small cuts and scrapes on my legs and arms from sitting on the glass filled bathroom floor. i noticed one large, deep puncture on my left fist from where i punched the mirror. 'Real smooth,' i thought to myself,  'How smart, punching a glass mirror and not expecting to get hurt. i swear i get more stupid each and everyday.' 

Wiping blood off my forehead i noticed my right fist swelling to the size of a baseball. Panicing and feelibg even more stupid, if that was even possible, i quickly stuck my hand in a bucket of ice. the relief was immeadiate and i felt a lot of pain escape my body.

After about two hours i felt it was afe to remove my hand from the ice bucket to check its damage. Thankfully, the swelling went down but the bone still stuck out and inch or two leaving me in fear it was broken. Not knowing what else to do for the rest of my injuries i put my face in the bucket of ice hoping it would numb my spinning mind. Somehow, i managed to fall asleep.