After I finished my chores, my dad and I got into an argument. It was about my grades. I guess two D+'s are not acceptable. After explaining to him, he still had his cheek turned. I guess that I should have payed more attention. After our argument, I marched to my room, and slammed the door. "You'll never understand me..." I whisper under my breath. I really thought about cutting at the time... I sauntered to my hiding place , in the dictionary and tucked my blades into the middle. I've been about 3 days clean. The smallest things trigger it. I mean, maybe its a little comment someone says about me, I'll crack. "Taylor," my dad pushes my door open. He has that "You've done it now" kind of look on. "Roll up your sleeves." He says. I walk towards him. A tear streams down my face as I whisper "No". He comes closer grabbing my wrists. I start crying harder as he pulls up my sleeves. "Why would you do this? " he questions. Because of you. I kept thinking. He pushes my arms away, giving me a dirty look; he was discusted. "This is stupid, Taylor." I nod my head no. " Dad, it's not like I do it for attention. " I say, avoiding eye contact. " Then what is it for?" He says crossing his arms. "Nevermind. You wouldn't understand." I say, closing my door in his face. He turns the knob and slams it open. "There has to be a reason." He says. Without a word, I walk to my bookshelf, and pull out my dictionary. I hand it to him. He opens it, and three metal razor blades fall onto the floor. He looks down at the blades, then at me. He shakes his head, "This is stupid. Things like this can kill you. " he explains. "I kinda want to be dead. Its not like you or anyone else has ever cared. She walks away from him as he shuts her door. Once again, she cries. The tears seem to never dry from her eyes.
