HIM

What's the point to continue living if what I'm doing is not living but surviving. I breathe and everything but it's like I'm dead inside. I'm dead. I don't fucking care anymore.

I just want to die.

I walk to the bathroom that is connected to the bedroom and I look for razor blades. Why not just slice open my already bleeding wrists. Everything is better than being here with him. I find them in his cupboard and I chuckle.

I will finally end this misery. Finally, I will be free.

I sit in the bathtub and I calmly slit my wrists deeply and the pain feels releasing. I lean my head back and I sigh. While my blood adorns my arm looking like beautiful red tears.

Finally freedom.

Some time passes and I hear someone in the bedroom. No...No...Please, let me be dead before e finds me. I don't want to stay in this horrendous world.

I feel myself slowly slipping away and giving in to this inviting darkness that greets me like an old friend. But before my eyes close someone pushes the door open and a tall figure stands there.

"FUCK!"

That's the last thing before I slip into the darkness.