Battle Scars // Cameron Dallas

Four

I step inside my empty lonely apartment. Walking to my bedroom, all I hear is the echoes of my footsteps.

Everyone has a fear of something.

Dark.
Heights.
Rats.
spiders.
snakes.

Mine is silents.

I can't stand it. It's proof that I'm alone in this world.

My mother kicks me out. I don't have friends. No one cares. I'm truly alone with my thoughts.

And it scars me.

I scream throwing things off my dresser. I hate myself. I hate my life. That pit in my stomach from disappointing my mother. It sits there reminding me I'll never be the perfect daughter she's always wanted. It's not like she brought me up wrong.

No.

She's the perfect mother every little girl wants. PTA, did my hair every morning packed cute notes in my lunch, homemade dinners. She's not dying of cancer or high on meth.

Nope.

She's perfect.

I'm the screwed up.

My father is no different either. He taught me football and sports. Learned to build my own car before my 15th birthday. He didn't get drunk and beat my mom, didn't let smock feel up his lungs.

We had that picture perfect family.

Stay at home mom.
Company owned dad.

I had friends too. Lots of them. They where what I thought true friends were. Sleepovers, bowling alleys, football games. Had a perfect boyfriend too.
Every girl wanted to be me. Every guy wanted to date me.

I was thin, that 'perfect body' Carter quoted.

I take a lamp and smash it against a wall.

Life was great till I tore my family apart.
Till I pushed my friends and loved ones away. Till my skin became a canvas. Before I looked at make up and though how sharp can I make this.

I don't cry. I won't let myself get that weak and cry. I stomp to the bathroom looking through the draws. Something sharp. Anything. I go to the living room discovering my book bag. Dumping the contents on the carpet, spreading everything out. I find a pencil sharpener.

Throwing it at the wall after four or five times. The container finally breaks and I take the cold metal to my skin, hearing it rip five times.

1. For being a bitch
2. Pushing my friends away.
3. Ruining my family.
4. Never being that perfect daughter or friend.
5. Letting my fear take control of me.

The blade drops and my body relaxes. I've never been bullied till after I became a freak.

One night I was shaving my legs and blood started rushing down my leg. I didn't freak out. I just watching the water mix with the thick red blood.
It felt good.

Few days later I was at cheer practice. One of The guys threw me in the air, but instead if catching me. I fell smacked down to the ground. I didn't yelp in pain, blood again rushed this time from my nose. Rapidly fast too. I watched it drip on the gym floor, fascinated by the color, the designs it made hitting cold floor.
I was taken in a trance.

Yes I felt pain both times. But the pain felt good. It was pleasure to me. Like I've never felt anything else in the world but

Pain.

After that I started cutting. Taking my make up apart making the metal into weapons. I publicly switched my music taste from Britney Spears to nirvana. I never really like that pop stuff, but being popular I had to. I stopped wearing skirts and floral shirts, and started wearing worn out, greasy shirts. Most being my dad's old band shirts and shirts he wore working on cars. I dyed all my jeans black and shredding them.

To me this all felt right. Felt like who I should really be. I felt like I could really be me finally.

I wore long sleeves in the summer to cover up my scars. My friends started to notice the change in my life. The said they where 'concerned'

I stayed over at Stella's house one night. As I was in the bathroom changing my day clothes to night ones. All the girl walked in seeing my scars. There wasn't many. But all the girl gasped. Called me names like freak.

After that night I lost everything. They all turned on me. Talked shit behind my back. Their words hurt, I started to feel more pain. Pain I can't control.

The only thing that eased the pain was cold metal. That pain I can control.

I'm glad I found my true self. Even if losing everyone meant I would find me. Then that's fine with me.

Now everyday I have to fight this battle I've made for myself.

Everyday I have to face Stella and her posy.

Hear the nasty words they call me, spit at me hurt me.

All because I never felt any real feeling but pain.

I long to find true emotions, something other then pain.

But so far the only true emotion is...

Pain.

I take my pants off and pull my hair up. The blood has clogged by now and I slip under my covers. Turning in some music to occupy me in my sleep.

______

Sooooo here is some past of Alexis yah scary huh ha anyways I really hope you like this story.

Trust me it will get better I have so much plans my loves.

Vote comment all that stuff.

I want to say something before I go though. I love everyone of you that is reading this and who aren't reading this. If you are going through a battle then remember I love you that there are people who are here to help you. Also you can always talk to me.
You are all so beautiful. You don't need perfect hair or thigh gaps to be beautiful.

You need to be healthy to be beautiful. Like my favorite quote says:

Heathy is beauty..

I love you!