Before She Cried

Before She Cried

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Mar 10, 2024
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Fiction
Romance
At the moment I'm holding a knife to my wrist, still unable to make the cut. Though I should, make the cut I mean. Before ending this pathetic life, I want to tell a tale. So take a seat, make some popcorn on the process too. It is going to be a long one. From where should I start? The age of five where I was molested everyday by a neighbour? Or the time when my own cousin molested me when I was shy of seven? May be from the time when I used earphones to cancel out the sounds of the fights between my parents? Or when I was put under the pressure of making my parents proud even at the cost of my mental health? I think I'll just start with how I made myself a fool by thinking a certain man can be my knight in shining amour and protect me from.
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Suicidal

I'm just going to write part of the story because I'm terrible at descriptions. "See, Harry," I say, showing him a beautiful picture of the city, "these are reasons to live." "Looks like a perfect place to die to me," Harry says. "Harry, just listen to me. You're not worthless. You're not fat. You're not ugly. Please just stop saying these terrible things about yourself." "Yes I am. People tell me that all the time. They tell me to slit my wrists, I listen to them. They tell me I'm worthless, I believe them. They tell me I'm fat, I listen to them and starve myself. So people don't think the same as you. But it's not like it matters what one person says," Harry says sadly. "Awwww, my poor little cupcake! It's okay, sweetie, I'll help you," I tell him. "A-and AJ," Harry stutters, "P-people say that you hate me and want me to die just as much as them. Is that true?" "No, Harry. I love you very, very much. Please don't do these terrible things to yourself." Read the rest to find out!

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