I sit in the uncomfortable Brown Chair as i sigh. "Has it gotten Better?" Asks Dr.Paul, Paper and Pen in hand. "No not really"i respond playing with my fingers. "Have you Cut or Took any drugs recently?" he asks writting down something,making me wonder. "Uh-" i studder. "Yeah I've Cut recently" i take a long pause, silence filling the room. "Alot" i finally say before showing him my scars and cuts on my Pale arm. "Why?" he asks me again writting something. "I was pissed off and felt so many things at once" i confess. "Oh-Does it help?" He asks. "I guess so" i say looking at my Green Hightop Converse.
At my inview,I sign oit and head to my skateboard. I skateboard to my parents house. As i walk through the door,I whitness my parents fighting. Usual. I run to my room already feeling tears in my eyes. As i close my room, i run to my bed and sit and Cry. Sob. And Scream. After a while of doing that I go to my Small drewer under my bed and grab my Small packet of Blades for a Razor. I take one betweem my Pointer finger and thumb and Slide it across my wrist. It slices my Delicate Skin.
One for Worthless
One for Ugliness
One for Fake friends
And one for No one caring about me.
YOU ARE READING
Clay·Corbyn Besson
Teen Fiction'im always molded into something else' ⚠WARNING⚠ THIS BOOK INCLUDES SADNESS,SUICIDE,SELF HARM AND ABUSE
