I woke up and checked my phone ... no missed calls from dad. Over 11 hours and I haven't heard from dad.
"If I don't get a call by 1:00 pm I'm calling the hospital." I whispered to myself (since no one is home) I went downstairs threw my hair up, and got myself a bowl of cereal; I looked at my phone when I was eating it read 12:10 PM.
"Ugh this is going to take forever."
I text Charli and explained everything to her. She said that was really sad and she'll be over in 20 minutes.
"20 minutes ... I have 20 minutes to brush my teeth, take a shower, and do my hair all before Charli comes."
"Okay all done and it only took 20 minutes...where's Charli?"
I went downstairs to grab a bottle of water and went back up to my room. After 10 minutes of starring at nothing I decided to text Charli. 20 minutes go by and no answer.
"Great it's 1:00 and nothing from either of them." 10 minutes go by and still nothing. I get up off my bed and grab the blade...my blade.
1:10PM
I held the blade up to my left wrist, I began to shake, debating whether I wanted to do this or not...I mean I've been doing so well. What will Charli think...or do? She was so proud of me...I remember the day I told her I've been clean for two weeks, her face lit up as she pulled me into a tigh hug. However, the blade has been there for me...the single silver blade, with the glare of the light it almost looks magical. I can't do it Charli will know...she'll find out, she always does, but my anxiety won. I took my shirt off so I wouldn't have to worry about blood getting on it and my parents questioning me when my shirt was washed. I started slashing my wrist repeatedly...over and over again. Starting from the left of my wrist palm in the air sliding the blade across my soft skin until blood started dripping down my fingers. I got up and washed my wrist and the blade careful not to cut my fingertips. I grabbed the Vaseline and a cotton swab. I went to my room and began applying the Vaseline on my cuts, when I was done I decided to put on a long sleeve shirt to cover up the cut marks.
YOU ARE READING
Things Can Change
Roman pour AdolescentsLola is just like any other 15 year old girl, or so everyone thinks. Other than her family being a little off she lives an average teenage life. Even though she gets most of the things she wants, she relies on a blade to relieve her from her proble...
