Can't Take Anymore - Staya

Always Interrupted

                                       I sigh. I can't think of anything else to do. I just want to be left alone, is that too much to ask? I slowly and quietly put the case of relief away and reach for my makeup. Applying the powder quickly, I hear another knock on the door. I already know Ricks to out of it to hear the knocking, so I continue covering up the redness on my cheek. As I finish applying the cheap powder to my cheek, I throw my hair up into a messy bun and walk out of the restroom. Walking the few steps to the door, I fix my clothes and wipe my eyes as much as I can.

                                       Opening up the door, their stands the three boys of interest. Are you kidding me? I finally get away from them, get my ass beat, and this is what I get next? A trio of boys that don't know how to mind there business? Especially now, after school when I get my privacy of bedroom walls to keep me away from people... Especially them. "Do you guys need something?" I ask. "You left school kind of in a rush, so I guess I wondering if you were ok," Liam says at supersonic speed. The other two just simply nod there heads to agree with Liam's statement.

                                    "Well I'm fine, thank you, but if you don't mind me, I'm leaving," I say as I close the door. I wait there until I can hear their shoes hit the pavement outside, heading away from my house. I walk back to the bathroom and grab my razors again. Then grab some band-aids and cloth, while walking back to my room. I sit on the ground and roll up my sleeves. Cuts. Old ones and new ones, white scars, and red lines. I open the box of razors and pull one out.

*!*!*!*!*! GETS GRAPHIC!*!*!*!*!*

                                      I bring the razor to my skin and slowly drag it across. Pain is what I feel, and I love it. What most people don't understand is that cutting is as addictive as drugs, if not more. Once you cut, you just have to do it again. I watch as the crimson liquid oozes out and down my arm. I love it. It stings and I love it. It hurts like hell physically and emotionally, and I love it. I slice again.

And Again.

And Again. 

And Again.

And Again...