●I remember the first time I started cutting my wrists. I was in 7th grade. It's also when my father started abusing me. I remember it all like it was yesterday.●
~flashback~
*loud slapping sound followed by sobbing*
"Please stop. I'm sorry what did I do?!"
He strikes me again and yells, blaming me for his anger.
"You exist!" Is what he yells back drawing blood from my already bruised face.
"You're trifling just like your mother, I've never met such a young disgrace", he says as my mom watches from the other side of their room.
"Get the fuck out!" My father angrily spat. I stood their in shock and tears, broken as ever. "I said get out now."
I quickly run away and into my room grabbing a razor. Heading to the bathroom as my tears and blood mix on my face, I lock the door behind me and sob some more.
I stared at myself in the mirror. A deep cut and a dark purple bruise on my cheek. Turning, I noticed a bruise on my arm. Looking down, there was yet another on my leg.
I trembled, carefully taking the razor apart getting only one of the thin blades, pressing it onto my wrist.
I think for a quick second "is this really what I want to do" before drawing on my skin with the blade multiple times. I sob more as blood gushes from my Carmel skin, not feeling pain but relaxation instead.
This was my first time cutting, but I promise it wasnt my last.
*disclaimer: I write and I might update frequently i hope you guys enjoy this story and yes this part is short sorry but thanks!!*
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The Pain That No one Sees but Her
RomanceHave you ever felt alone and drifted apart from everyone? You ever felt misunderstood and such? You silently cry to yourself trying not to cause people to care, because you know they wouldn't in the first place? Then You meet this one person, and th...
