As usual, after school I come home and think about my day with no sort of opinion on what its supposed to be like. I sit on my bed and stare at myself in the mirror. My makeup still intact althought beggining to somewhat melt off of my face I feel okay about myself. I feel as though I am a decently attractive human being... I feel as though men and boys alike look at me, and that makes me shiver. Wquickly after remocing this thought from my head I go to my closet and pull out a large oversized sweatshirt, one of the ones with no zipper and a large pocket in the front of it.
I hear my dog running as fast as he can up the stairs to greet me. He jumps onto my bed and rolls around, whining and whimpering. I rub his belly, and kiss his nose. He immeadietly stops being so excited and looks out of the doorway, he gallops downstairs barking and I follow behind him. He barks out of the window, and I look outside, a moving van is there, the house accross the street has sold. I sigh, mom and dad are going to want us to go over and greet them sometime soon.
I hear my dad talking in the other room on the phone and feel, for no apparent reason anger boiling inside of my chest. A kind of anger that can't be explained, a bitter and lonely anger.... The kind of anger I imagine someone would have before they kill someone. It's been three days now, since I cut myself and I begin salivating at the idea of doing it again. The anger and thought of cutting brings tears to my eyes. I feel one fall down my cheek and turn over, burrying my face into my pillow and clench my hands closed, my teeth grind together. I stand up, grab my towel which is hanging on my brown chair and rush to the bathroom. I begin to run the shower and sit on the ground I pull out my razors and lay them on the ground in thier typical order, biggest to smallest. I stare at them for a moment and then pick up the biggest and dullest blade, the one that when I cut myself will hurt the most. I let it push into my skin and I feel my breathe exhale sharply out of my body. I didn't shower, my skin didnt soften. This hurts more, this makes me feel more.
A rush of emotion comes over me and I begin to cry, I cry uncontrolably and the blade falls to the ground. I cry and curl into a ball. I feel my naked body press against itself and my hot breathe on my legs. My tears soak my body... I reach my hands up, I pull my hair and groan because my chest feels like its going to explode. I don't want this.... I don't want this. I think to myself over and over. I dont want to be crying anymore.
I fall into a frenzy and begin to cut, I cut over and over, I cut until I am so soaked in my own blood that I can't see my skin, I cut my stomach and my hips, my sides and my arms. I feel the pain throughout my whole body, there are streaks in the blood from my tears falling onto my skin, I stand up and go to look in the mirror, its foggy, covered in steam... Slowly, carefully, I wipe the steam downwards, so I can see my body. I see the red that coats me and shudder, I look as though I am from a horror movie, like Ive been stabbed and tortured... I look wrong, demented, deformed... Sick.
What's wrong with me..?
