One more lie

Chapter 1

Here I am. The same old place again. The knife in one hand, the band aids in the other. I can feel warm tears coming down my face. Cutting is kind of like smoking, you never hear people saying that they were glad they started smoking, same with cutting.

Every cut has a meaning, a story behind it.

For instance the cut just above my wrist, was when I started. Three years ago i was called pizza face every day because of my horrible acne. I was called fat everyday because I was ten pounds heavier than every. Single. Girl in my school. I couldn't take it. I found an old steak knife and just cut. It felt so wrong, but so right.

I was just finishing bandaging my cut just as my mom called "Morgan get down here for dinner!"

"Coming" I yell wiping my tears.

I ran down the stairs, but I guess I didn't wipe all the tears.

"Morgie what's wrong."

"I-uh just finished watching titanic"

"Um ok. Well you have a choice between canned soup our canned spaghetti and meatballs. Which one will it be?"

"Soup,duh"

After I am done eating chicken noodle soup I hurry upstairs because I am so tired out from volleyball tryouts. And just fall asleep.

TOMORROW MORNING

I get up late again. At 7:00 am. My alarm never went off. I am not one to dress up for school, especially even if you try you just get called ugly. I put on some Hollister skinny jeans with an over sized graphic tee. I put on natural makeup. Except I was delayed because I got mascara in my eye. I just out my long, wavy blonde hair into a simple messy bun. Slide on some nike slides and walk out the door with my bag.

Yay. Time for the torture to begin.