I got to my dads house & ran inside so the bitch couldn't see me cry. I ran upstairs to my room & slammed the door & threw my backpack on my bed.
I went over to my razors & cut my wrist again. I cut and cut and cut until my whole arm was bleeding. I didn't feel any relief, I felt more angry. I decided to just calm down my anger, I don't cut deep, I never have, I want to die but something is holding my back from hitting that vein.
Maybe it's because I might have something to live for, or maybe it's because I have a secret love out there I haven't met yet, or maybe I need to stay for my mom,
MOM!
Oh my god I wonder what she is doing, or how she is. I had to call her. I haven't talked to her in a couple days.
I ran downstairs & grabbed the phone book and started turning through the pages to try to find rehabs in this town. I found 3 different ones so I decided to call them all.
"Hi, is Ms. Rebecca Wilson there?"
There was a long silence.
"She's sleeping. Can I take a message?" The lady said.
"Oh. Just tell her that her daughter called." I said & hung up before the lady could answer.
Sleeping? Who sleeps at 4 in the afternoon?
Probably doesn't want to talk to your fat ass. I heard a voice inside my head say.
Woah, I never thought I would talk to myself this way.
But it's true. I am fat, and my mom probably hates me now.
I went back upstairs to grab my running clothes & I heard my dad & His girlfriend arguing.
"She's fat Steven, & you know it." She said, "She needs to go on a diet or she'll eat the whole house."
"What do I do? Punish her for eating?" He asked.
"Just whenever she does it just push her around. It's not child abuse unless we leave marks on her. She needs to learn some way." She said.
"Okay." My dad said, "We'll do that then."
"I hate her anyway." She said quietly.
"I do too." My dad said.
Heartbreak. Pain. Hatred.
I felt like he just stabbed a hole right through my chest & ripped my heart out. I'm hated here, I have to go. I need to get out of here.
I ran to my room & grabbed my phone & some shoes & ran down the stairs when someone caught my arm.
I turned to see that it was my dad,
"Where do you think you're going?"
