My Life Doesn't Make Sense
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- Votes 24
- Parts 3
I'm taking a bath. The water is neither hot nor cold. I wish this water could take my pain away. I wish it could wash even my bad memories away. I feel free to cry because I can't feel my tears while being under this douche. I lost my mother, my brother and my boyfriend on the same day. I'm all alone in this world with no one to turn to. The whole school saw a video of me having sex and posted it on social media. My body isn't my privacy anymore. My mother and I are being domestically abused by my father who is a drunken idiot, my whole life is a fucking living hell! It just... Doesn't make sense.
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" I scrub and scrub trying to make it go away. I'd happily go back to walking around internally dead than whatever this is. Watching the crimson substance go down the drain and off my skin- out of sight, out of mind, except it's not going away. I hated that pain was temporary but this... this pain I don't want it. I don't want to feel this. Tears begin to well in my eyes making my vision blurry. Weak. Anger surges in my veins and impulsively my fist connects with a tile on the wall of the shower shattering it. This is emotional. I don't do that. I don't do this- I don't cry in the shower. I don't let my emotions dictate my actions I haven't in a long time. It's stupid. It's childish. It's weak. I glance down at my knuckles on my right hand, watching the tiny cuts heal. Shouting, I punch the tile over and over and over again until blood runs down my arm and drips onto the shower floor. I reach my severely broken hand out under the water, momentarily stinging as water hits the open wounds which unfortunately close over seconds later. I crack whatever bones need it, back into place and look around me. The back wall of the shower is destroyed, shards of tile and blood scattered on the floor. As I stand under the scalding hot stream staring into nothing my mind falls silent for a split second. A few seconds of solace until everything comes crashing back. The tightness in my chest and my stomach, the cloudiness in my brain, the anger, the sadness. It all comes back. I sit down away from the shattered pieces of tile, curling my legs up and letting the near boiling water hit my back. There was a feeling of relief in losing everything I was. Whatever it is that has clawed it's way to the surface, I want it gone. I want that relief back. "
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