Weep, My Harming Angel

Types up a description, wattpad deletes it, CURSE YOU WATTPAD!!!! Gives it another go, wattpad, AGAIN, deletes it, ok now your purposely dicking with me. I sense extreme dickory!!! What did I do wrooooong? So I'm gonna give it another go, but I swear, if wattpad deletes it, A FUCKING THIRD TIME, Imma take it personally- it's early (about 3:30 a.m.) and I do my best writing when I'm tired as all balls so here this is, attempt number three.
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Mark's getting sent off to another recovery program. His mother can't handle both his brother, his dying father, and all the bills to accompany last minute attempts to get more time with the kindhearted man, and Mark. A suicidal, depressed, self loathing, self harming, fuck up, that no one likes, with an eating disorder. He's been in and out of countless programs to get better, each and every failing. He can't be trusted with medication, because when he looks at pills all he sees is another attempt to kill himself. So what's so different about this one? Well, it's across an ocean, on a completely different continent, in Ireland.
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Jack wasn't expecting what he was greeted with when he came back to the house, given by the program. He wasn't expecting the girl he was supposed to help heal, Wiishu, to be laid in the tub, with stab wounds to the stomach and chest, long slits all up her frail arms, and words like fat, slut, and imperfect carved all over her body. All self inflicted. After so many questions that Jack's head started to spin, all Jack wanted to do was curl up in his room, away from everything and everyone. Unfortunately, we don't always get what we want. As soon as Wiishu's bloody body was hauled away with the reporters, Jack was reassigned to a new house and a new soul to look over and guide away from harmful habits, because it's all fun and games until the wounds don't heal.