Hello my lovelies! Message/inbox me if you have thoughts/opinions of any of my stories! Or if you have questions about me! I love answering questions! lol Im sorry if this story is kinda poorly written, i kinda wing it when im writing unless i already have the chapters done, which, like never happens. Sorry its so short! its good though!
I hate people that you are close to start judging you. it just gets under my skin and drives insane. Ok im done ranting for now... COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT!!! Oh and if you love twitter, inbox me your name thingy and i will follow you!!
Song Im listening to while writing, Happily Ever After by Haley Rose. Its such a pretty song.. Ill have the link over there >>>>>>>>> it goes great with the chapter, especially the middle to end:D
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My best of wishes to my banditto's family that is coping with a loss of a close family member. I love you buddy and if you ever need someone to talk to, you can text me, or message me or call me! I wish that I could give you a hug.. so we need to hang out! lol Text me after you read this!
Never give in, never back down. A saviour will be there!
Sorry Harper.. I just had to tell you that!
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Ok enjoy! and comment!
Disarray's POV
I slammed the deep mahogany front door as I walked through it. Might as well annoy the shit out of them since they wanted me back so fucking bad.
"Disarray!" my mom yelled. If you can call her a mom.
"Aww! So you do remember my name! Props to you!" I said sarcastically and smirked at my mother.
"I'm not in the mood for your smart ass remarks and sarcasm so cut it out." Mom glared at me and crossed her arms over her chest.
"I'm not in the mood to be here!" I remark, walking past her. She grabbed my forearm and spun my back around to face her. She pointed a finger in my face and glared.
"I suggest you move your finger out of my face. I bite." I said, looking at her manicured finger, that was indeed in my face, and I was indeed about to bite off if she didn't move it.
"Whats going on in here?" Dad came waltzing in.
"Oh, nothing. I was just going upstairs." I pulled my arm away from my moms clutches and stomped up the stairs. I flew through the doorway and slammed my bedroom door closed, and I stalked towards my bed. After I sat down on the comforter I took off my jacket and tore off the fingerless gloves. I looked at my arms, tattoos and scars and cuts where there isn't ink. Tears welled up in my eyes as I look at the scars and cuts.
My life fell apart, in one week. I couldn't even think about what had happened, the pain was still sharp in my heart, burned into my memory.
The house was silent, meaning that either my parents left, or they are whispering. I got up and stepped lightly after slipping off my shoes, I walked out my door and to the top of the stairs silently. I looked down the ledge-that you could see the front door and a part of the living room from the 2nd floor. Its as if someone had hollowed out the middle of the house. I could hear my parents talking, about sending me to group therapy. I rolled my eyes and walked quiet as a whisper back to my room.
I went into my bathroom and found my razor, I looked at a small space where there isnt a cut or a scar. That was about to change. I held the razor loose but firm in my grip, like a scalpel, or a knife. I took a deep breath and pressed it hard against my arm, and dragged it towards me. The blood ran out like a river, the pain was sharp and dulled my emotional pain. I bit my lip and looked in the drawer that I had taken the razor out of, there was a clear orange bottle with the pain meds that I had taken after the accident. I dropped the razor and picked up the bottle, that was practically full of the white pills. After the accident they gave me meds as needed for pain, this was my second bottle. I opened the bottle and took out 2 pills, the recommended dose that practically knocked me on my ass. I popped the pills in my mouth and got a drink of water out of the faucet. Then, I waited, and watched my blood run onto the bathroom floor. I sunk down to my knees and then I flopped to my side, my head pressed to the cold tiles, my cut in front of my face, the blood pouring out of it.
I sighed out as I felt the pills kick in, and cloud my judgement slightly. I smiled softly as I felt all the pain disappear. My head spun from the slight blood loss and the pain medication. This must be what being high feels like. But better, but I knew that I was too scared to do actual drugs, I could barely take the pills after the accident, i was afraid of getting hooked on them. Dependent on them.
Fuck my life. I hate it. Sometimes I wish that I could end it all. The pain, guilt, the cutting, the trouble eating. But I couldn't do that, I was curious to see what this fucked up world had in store for me. I inhaled deeply, nothing great ever happens to me. Damn. How wrong I was.
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The Last Cut
Teen FictionDisarray is an outcast, people call her 'emo'. Her family is full of preps. They hate her new lifestyle of being the way she is. They hate the fact that she dyed her long blonde hair black and got it cut so its more scene. She has multiple tattoos a...
