Story cover for Please, Just Leave Me To Die *Narry Storan* by Oh_How_Original
Please, Just Leave Me To Die *Narry Storan*
  • WpView
    Reads 67,664
  • WpVote
    Votes 2,445
  • WpPart
    Parts 24
  • WpHistory
    Time 2h 9m
  • WpView
    Reads 67,664
  • WpVote
    Votes 2,445
  • WpPart
    Parts 24
  • WpHistory
    Time 2h 9m
Complete, First published Aug 21, 2013
- Not completed-Do you ever just sit in your room at night and think about everything? Why you were born, what’s the point of living? Are you even needed in this cruel world? Do you ever just think, would anyone even miss me if I’m gone?  These thoughts run through my mind pretty much every night. I lie in bed, staring at my ceiling with tears rolling down my cheeks. Normally along with several fresh marks embedded into my stomach and skin.  Nobody would ever know though, why would they? It’s not like my family are remotely interested in me or anybody for that manner. Well, I use the term ‘family’ extremely loosely. My ‘family’ basically consists of me living with my uncle who doesn’t even register that I’m living in the same house as him. He basically uses me for the benefits so he can buy more cigarettes and spent more money on prostitutes.  I use the term ‘house’ loosely also, I wouldn’t call it a house. I would call it a two bedroomed shack on the rough side of town
All Rights Reserved
Sign up to add Please, Just Leave Me To Die *Narry Storan* to your library and receive updates
or
#852suicidal
Content Guidelines
You may also like
How i see you - harry styles fanfic by dancethedance
31 parts Complete
Hi, a lot of people wouldn't care to hear my story and even my care ti hear name but if your still reading this well You might well..... Could say care. Well to start off my name is Anna robin, and I live in Melbourne near the city, my mum and dad died in a car crash when I was seven. I'm sixteen now and live with my abusive and alcoholic uncle Jerry. When ever he gets home from the pub or his friends house he comes home all drunk and can get very abusive that's why I have all these bruises and cuts on my body that leave scares. I was ten years old when he started to abuse he got home all drunk an- "Anna get your slutty ass down here now" yep well That's my caring loving uncle note the sarcasm. I got up from my bed a shoot of pain went down my body from the previous beating he gave me the night before, I glanced at the alarm clock and read 3:47, yep that's my uncle goes and comes back late really drunk. I walked down the wooden stairs to my uncle to received the regular beating only this time with a whip!! "Aww is Annaaa scared??" He slurred "WHAT!?! Are you crazy you gonna kill me" I partially yelled I was quite proud of myself that's the first time I stood up to him! I felt his hand connect with my check in a matter in seconds and made me go straight to the floor, then he stared to kick me numerous which made me whine in pain and became more unbearable. Then he brought out the whip and whipped me uncountable times and started to see black spots in my vision and the last whip that I remember I blacked out and darkness took over. I felt tingles in my feet and arms and struggled to even open my eyes it felt like they were stuck down with super glue. I tried to open my eyes and finally seceded, my vision was all blurry from being passed out and crying. I blinked a couple of times to gain my original eyesight back. I stood up and a big shoot of pain went down my spine.
You may also like
Slide 1 of 9
Journal (Boyxboy) cover
The Boy Who Lived Again (boyxboy) (COMPLETED) cover
Hauntingly Beautiful: Niall Horan Fanfiction cover
Savior | Taekook cover
How i see you - harry styles fanfic cover
Beyond Repair cover
Message requests •• Sunhyun/Myungnyangz  cover
Save me // ziall ✓ cover
anathema ; phan  cover

Journal (Boyxboy)

11 parts Complete Mature

Have you ever had your own journal? One that you either are required to have or just have to get your thoughts out... I do, and it's for when I go to therapy. It was supposed to help soothe me and give me something to talk of when I visited my therapist. Coming from me it means a lot of writing of bad things, sometimes the bad things are all I think about and I write in it every day. It would be horrible if someone read it outside the circle of me and my therapist. I trusted her and that was it, no one else was a loud in. Sometimes I thought of someone who I would let read it but he would never pay attention to me, I was a nobody; in his world.