The Torment

"My Secret"

        A four inch stainless steel knife, If society knew my secret I would be called a freak for calling it a friend. It's  brutally honest object that has never left my side. I go to it when upset and it makes me....feel. Every insult, every name, every erge to cry my little friend is there to comfort me in the form of tiny red lines and endless streams of the forbidden red liquid. It's cold, sharp, and unforgiving edge going deep into my skin cancels out the countless insults that rips at my heart. I cut my thigh so no one sees. My little secret.

        No one would understand right? I'm an athlete, good built, tan skin, but the loneliness of living in this generation has left me in a state of confusion contanty. This world where girls and men treat themselves like objects. Where the music had changed from "I want to see you smile" to "I want to have sex with you" If only I was born years ago, maybe I would feel normal.

        I have friends and they find me strange, they don't say so but I can tell. They often laugh and treat self harm as a joke. I let off an impulsive request for them to stop and I get stares, cold stares as if they are saying "are you one of them Jeremy? Are you one of those freaks we make fun of day in and day out" Most days I want to scream yes in their faces. Shout, scream, cry, run away from those who judge.

To them they think I, and anyone who self harms as freaks. Most days I agree.. I am a freak.

        My mother is an agressive woman and hard to open up to. She yells before anything else, and in the past few years has become a major antagonist in my life. My father is too passive to stand up to her and their agruements can carry into the late hours of the night. I often become upset when it is time to go home because home has felt like hell since I was in 6th grade. I feel no love from my parents, my siblings are overachievers, and all I do is continue to be is the failure of the family. I dont't drink or smoke or anything, but i get accused everyday. I wish God could take me to live with Him today, I long for His kindgom.

        Suicide. A word I learned from my little brother at a young age. The word with a sinister feel to it, a word with a bitter taste to it. It pops into my head day in and day out. "Everyone would be happy if you were gone." "Less tuition for your parents to pay who they complain about to my face everyday." "G and die already Jeremy" "Worthless" "You are everyone's bother" My knife eases these thoughts, but I know one day I won't stop and I'll have my relief.

        A girl, everyone has that right? In my life there is one who I like alot. I met her through my friends, and she is the one of the two people who know of my addiction. She is the only person who can bring true happiness out of me. The sad part is if I express my feelings I know she would walk out of my life in an instant like anyon else. I often find myself just wishing I could be near her constantly, but i know she would never like me, and she doesn't seem to want to be near me. We text and thats it. Strange right? To like a girl who I barely know if she thinks of me at the end of the day or if I'm just another guy in her life. It scares me to death. I just want to cry out, but I don't have the guts.Her beauty adds warmth to my cold and broken heart. Her words are comfort to a guy who has one foot out of life and one in it. I wish i could tell her but my insecurities eat me alive.

       In a world that I don't want to be in I just feel like I should give up. Be done, gone, out. I just wish I had a way out in the push of a button. My fear of a fate of hell, and my feelings toward that girl are what keep me here. I just wonder if that... that thing is enough to keep me sane. That four inch stainless steel knife....my friend.