Worthless

Reads 22
Votes 2
Parts 1
Time 6m

Reads 22
Votes 2
Parts 1
Time 6m

Mature

depression emotion mature serious teenager teens

I'm worthless. I deserve death. I shouldn't be here. These are things I tell myself daily. But I'm not dead yet, so I have to keep on holding myself up for now. For now. I'm Chloe James, and this is the end of my story.All Rights Reserved

depression emotion mature serious teenager teens

Table of contents

Holding On To Whats Left
Fri, Jul 7, 2017

1 part

Holding On To Whats Left
Fri, Jul 7, 2017

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"You are a worthless piece of trash! We should've gotten rid of you when we had the chance!" My abusive dad shouted, slapping me with all of his might. My name is Chloe Adams. Both of my parents have abused me my entire life. I'm covered in bruises, cuts, and burns from head to toe, but I've learned how to cover them up. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever escape this hell hole. "Yeah you should've." I agreed, whispering under my breath. "What was that!?" He yelled even louder than before. "N-Nothing." I stuttered, afraid of his reaction. I don't want to be pushed down the stairs again. The last time that happened, I broke my wrist. They didn't even take me to the hospital. I had to bandage it myself. "That's what I thought! Go fetch me a beer!" He ordered. There comes a moment when you don't want to stop. When you don't want to get better. You just don't care anymore. Read to find out how one small yet huge text can change Chloe's outlook on this magical journey we call life.

Just an online journal of my personal thoughts . No, I am not suicidal. No, I am not depressed. Just introverted, and I trap feelings in more than I'm supposed to .. So I let them out here.

I'm Easton Carter. A 18 year old boy who struggles with depression and stuff. I start to notice I'm living in a world of suicide and homicide . Everyone I love dies and most of the time, it gets to where I have no one left. I think about the deepest purposes of things and every time I think I'm okay and everything is fine, I always have another thing coming. I always end up getting lost in my own nightmares but all I have to do is turn the page.

I wanted to write down exactly how I felt but somehow the paper stayed empty and I could not have described it any better.

"You know that I'm dying and you still want this?" I asked confused. She walked slowly to me, never taking her eyes off me. Like two piece of magnet coming together, I couldn't pull away. Resting her forehead on mine, she finally spoke "I love you"

Sick of crying, tired of trying, yes I'm smiling but inside I'm dying.

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The Text

"You are a worthless piece of trash! We should've gotten rid of you when we had the chance!" My abusive dad shouted, slapping me with all of his might. My name is Chloe Adams. Both of my parents have abused me my entire life. I'm covered in bruises, cuts, and burns from head to toe, but I've learned how to cover them up. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever escape this hell hole. "Yeah you should've." I agreed, whispering under my breath. "What was that!?" He yelled even louder than before. "N-Nothing." I stuttered, afraid of his reaction. I don't want to be pushed down the stairs again. The last time that happened, I broke my wrist. They didn't even take me to the hospital. I had to bandage it myself. "That's what I thought! Go fetch me a beer!" He ordered. There comes a moment when you don't want to stop. When you don't want to get better. You just don't care anymore. Read to find out how one small yet huge text can change Chloe's outlook on this magical journey we call life.

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