One Last Time

Chapter 6

As I laid in bed, in the dark, my thoughts began to swim around. I began to cry. Those people were right. I was ugly. I was fat. I was stupid. I was a waste of space. I began sobbing. Everything was messed up. I wish I could go back to the beginning of the year, where at least I had a few friends. Then I could figure out what I did wrong.

Once I heard my dad snoring, I went to my desk. Taking a screwdriver, I carefully dismantled the blade from my pencil sharpener. Right then, this little piece of metal was all that could give me hope. I took a deep breath in before gently sliding the cold blade across my skin. Wow. It felt like a scratch, not a cut. I ran the blade fast across my skin more times than I could count. Once I stopped, I stared at my wrist. Lines of blood appeared. I grabbed a tissue and rubbed my skin, in an attempt to clean up. But to no avail. More blood was coming. It wasn't a heavy, just coming in quick bursts.

When I managed to get the blood to stop dripping, I felt better. I stared at the cuts I had created. They were red and raised. I smiled and ran my finger lightly over them. I was proud of myself for a reason I couldn't explain.

All I wanted was to be happy. To be content. And now I was. The feeling after cutting was a mix of regret and enjoyment. I searched through my room for my journal. But I couldn't remember where I had hidden it. I dug through my drawers and looked around my desk and vanity. But it was nowhere to be found. Until I saw it. Right in plain sight.

That wasn't good. I knew I had hidden it. Which only meant one thing. My parents had looked through my things and had read it. This was awful. Although I'd only written a couple quotes, they were sad and depressing. So now mom and dad knew how I was feeling. I'd have to hide my personal items better.

I scribbled a quote before going to bed.

I used to make my parents proud....

Hey, guys. All the quotes I'm using are from my depressed insta acc 

:)