Sticks and Stones

Sticks and Stones

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Nov 9, 2015
Everything was great. Who could possibly send these and why won't they tell me. I can't handle it. My eyes fill up with tears and I grab the nearest thing. The knife I keep in my dresser. The mascara runs down my cheeks and the knife slices through my wrist cleanly and blood drawls from the wound. With each cut I feel a little bit better. I stop and look at the new cuts and the old scars from old ones and I fill up with guilt and sadness. Tears flow like waterfalls and run my mascara down my face as yelps of sadness erupt from my mouth. Someone help me. "Emlyn! are u alright in there?" Calls my mom. "I'm fine." I reply, staring at the oozing blood coming from my arms.
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#660
overcome
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''What are you doing?'' He asked. ''Why didn't you tell me?'' I wasn't able to speak. I didn't tell him about it.. I didn't want to tell him that I cut. But he caught me. '' I-I'm sorry...'' I cried. He took my blade, and slit his wrist. ''Josh, what are you doing?'' I screamed. ''It hurts to see someone doing it, uh?'' another cut. ''Stop please!'' I was crying and screaming, I didn't know what to do. He threw the blade on the floor and got out of the bathroom.

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