She Cried For Help

hard to tell what comes next *trigger warning*

I walk home after another day of 8th grade. And me, only having one friend it was hard to avoid getting bullied.  The words from earlier ran through my head. "Kill yourself.", "fag, you're better off dead","why aren't you dead?!" just thinking about it made a tear rush from my eye and roll under my cheek, taking make up with it. The air was cold, then again it's December. I reach the front of my house and open the door. Nobody was home and there was no note on the table "hm, probably went out to get wasted and won't be home until tomorrow" i slightly grinned at that thought and went upstairs. The thoughts were still racing through my head. I walk into my room and grab the blade I've used since i was 11 out of my drawer. I take off my sweatshirt. I close my eyes and.. One line.. Two lines.. Suddenly there were more than ten lines on each arm. I sat and watched the blood drip as these words, these god awful words ran through my head. I dug through my drawer again and pulled out bandage wraps. I cleaned and wrapped both my arms before falling into a deep, painful sleep.