Sweaters

Black. That's what I see in the world. What I feel. How everything seems. Black. Sometimes I see Red. There's Red in the people surrounding me. Red in their eyes. Sometimes for love, sometimes for hate. Then there's the Red blood stains on my sweaters. They're received in those long, sleepless nights where I fight the demons that scream in my head, almost always receiving yet another battle wound. Sometimes these wounds trigger others of greater depth to occur. Black and Red are the only colors I see. My Black sweaters hide my Red marked wrists.

My name is Izzy. See through my eyes.

One day I saw him. He didn't join in with the other populars to beat me up. He just stared at me like he wished he could do something. Maybe he will. I pray that he will. Will he stand up for me? Will he protect me from harm? Potentially save me from spiraling towards suicide?