Feed my soul

Feed my soul

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Jul 24, 2014
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Fiction
Social Themes
I stare blankly at the ceiling, dimly lit by the decorative lights I had hung around in my room a while ago, wondering about how it all started. How did I end up like this? One year ago I was this joyful kid who had a few extra pounds but smiled the fuck out of life and now I am this fucked up kid who doesn't even bother trying to be happy. I wish I knew how to end it all because it all feels just so wrong. It feels like I'm consuming a little of myself everyday to fill the belly of my hungry soul.
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I like inflicting pain. Not on others but on myself. Some people would call me depressed but I'm not. If anything the pain makes me happy. I started "self harming" at the mere age of nine. Or at least, that's what she called it. My therapist, I mean. She ended up giving me a life time supply of antidepressants and some shitty advice. I'm now eighteen, rotting in jail, and awaiting my death sentence. This is my story and if I'm quite honest, you don't want to hear it. +++ awards: ➵ Winner, Short Story Category, "Summer Book Awards" @Capybara100 ➵ Overall Winner, "Summer Book Awards" @Capybara100 status: ➵ started - 19/08/17 ➵ finished- 07/11/18 note: ➵ Please don't copy me. I don't appreciate it and will block you and report you. No writer likes to be copied and neither do readers. Readers want something which is unique and original.

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