"If you struggle with self-injury you are not a "cutter." You are a person. You are not only your pain. You are not only your wounds and scars. You are also better things. You are: possibility and promise, hope and healing daydreams, favorite books and favorite songs. You are the people that you love. You are hope and change and things worth fighting for. This is all your story, and your story isn't over."
-UnknownI sigh, dragging the metal piece across my wrist. The blood droplets drip onto the white bathroom tile, but I don't care.
I deserve this. I deserve to die, for being a disappointment.
I look at the lock on the doorknob for about the 100th time. Nobody knows about me, they don't know I'm bullied, I'm stressed, I'm depressed, I'm suicidal, I self-harm. I don't want them to find out now. I run the blade across my wrist a few more times before moving on to my stomach. Tears fall down my cheeks quickly, but I don't have the strength to wipe them away.
"Why can't I just be a freaking normal person?" I mutter, the tears falling harder.
The blood drops down my stomach onto my leggings, and that's when I know it's time to move on to my thighs. I drop the hem of my hoodie, and slowly pull down my leggings. I take the metal blade and drag it across the skin.
"F*****g h*ll," I whimper, gritting my teeth.
The blood just continues to fall, and I can't stop.
Oh my God, f*ck, I need to stop.
I drop the blade and it falls and hits the tile with a clatter. I pull up my leggings and slide down the bathroom door, knees to my chest, head in my hands.
"Sometimes I wish I could just kill myself. The pain would be done, I'd be gone, the world would be a better place, if I could just-" I begin to sob.
"Adalayn, are you in here?" I hear my sister, Abbey, ask, knocking on the door.
I stand up, wiping away my tears.
"Uh yeah, I'll be out in a minute," I answer, trying not to hiccup.
"Okay, Mom wants to talk to you when you're done," she replies, and the sound of her footsteps walking away tells me the coast is clear.
I sigh, running cold water from the tap. I rinse my face to cool it down, and once it's dry I open the bathroom door, making sure the blade is safely tucked away in my boot.
"Mom, you wanted to see me?" I ask her once I've made my way downstairs.
"Yeah, some friends of yours knocked on the front door, asking about some project for school? I told them to come in, they're in the kitchen."
Friends? I have friends? No way. That's about as possible as it is for pigs to fly.
"Okay, thanks?" I reply, turning around and heading towards the kitchen.
"Did you finish the project yet?" Kira snarls.
Of course. These "friends."
"No, I haven't completed the observations yet," I mutter, looking around anxiously.
"Well I would finish then, because if you don't, you know what'll happen," Ian growls, softly whispering the last part.
"I can't necessarily bring a frog to my house," I roll my eyes. "But, I think it's time for you guys to leave now."
I grab their arms and pull them into the foyer.
"Goodbye," I sing-song, pushing them outside and closing the door.
"They're leaving already?" Mom asks, coming up behind me.
I whip around.
"Uh yeah, they got the date wrong," I laugh nervously.
"Oh. Okay then," she shrugs, turning around to walk back into the kitchen.
I let out a breath, running back upstairs.
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Hi lovelies! Happy February! I hope you enjoyed!
XO,
Mackenzie
YOU ARE READING
Bulletproof
Teen Fiction"Sometimes, life puts you in a situation where you have to be strong and brave. You have to love yourself, you have to be confident in your own skin." "What happens when I don't have the confidence and I can't love myself?" "Well, sweetheart, I gues...