Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2037854
Rated: 13+ · Other · Emotional · #2037854
~What Doesn't Kill You, Makes You Wish You Were Dead~
"Another night all alone with her thoughts, dwelling on the questions that race through her head."

Memphis Mayfire blasts through my ears as I sit in my room. Tears stream freely down my face. I just had another fight with my brother. Its crazy because he used to be one of the closest people to me and now we don't ever stop fighting. He's mad at me because I never tell him anything anymore. Ever since he's went away to College, I've stopped talking to him. I'm mad at him. He left me to go to college. Now here I am, stuck in 10th grade. Barely passing. Dealing with constant bullying and bullshit from my mom and he wonders why I'm angry.

I bury my face into the pillow and just let the sobs wrack my body. My life wasn't always like this. Back in 8th grade, I was happy. That's before my brother left though and before the....incident. I used to have tons of friends and a happy family. Then in 8th grade, my dad cheated on my mom, they got a divorce and things started falling apart.

I guess everything was to much to deal with. I tried to take my life. My dad stopped talking to me after that. Said he didn't want a suicidal daughter. Then at school, I developed a crush on my best friend. She was so beautiful. I've known since 5th grade I was pan-sexual. Meaning I'd dating anyone. Not based off looks just personality and this girl, Maria she had an amazing personality and yes she was beautiful. We were hanging out and I kissed her. Should of known she was straight.

Then she went around telling everyone I tried to rape her and all this other stuff. so now, everything things I'm a creep and shit. I would switch schools but living in a small town of Washington Court House Ohio, everyone knows everyone and there are 2 schools. Elementary and High School. We have a huge mall, like 5 fast food restaurants, 2 good ones and 3 gas stations. So yeah. Small. I've begged my mom to let me move in with a aunt or something but she says I should bother our relatives over some silly school girl problems.

My brother is about 2 hours away in Cincinnati Ohio. He goes to Mt. St. Joesph. He's a history major. We both love history. Except he wants to be at museums and I wanna be a high school history teacher. That is, if I make out of high school.

"Vanessa Lee Lantz come downstairs and get dinner!" My mom yells up the stairs.

I sigh, take a baby wipe and make sure all my make up is gone, throw on a Mayday Parade hoodie and head down stairs.

"Took you long enough. We're having chicken tonight." She says. I nod and go into the kitchen.

My mom. I don't really know how to feel about her. I mean I know she cares but she's not supportive enough. When she found out about my depression, she ignored it and pretended it didn't happen. Then threatened to ship me to my dad's if I ever tried that shit again. What she doesn't know is if I ever did it again, I'd make sure I didn't survive.

I grab a few pieces of chicken, some potatoes and green beans. Once my plate is full, I go sit at the kitchen table. I wait for my mom and then we eat. We only have meals together once a week when she isn't working third shift. Its also the only time we have home made meals. Other wise I just scavenger up whatever I can or I order take out.

"So hows school?" She asks. I shrug.

"School I guess."

"Okay..What about your friends?" She asks.

"There fine." I say flatly. She knows damn well I have zero friends.

"You know, you don't have to get an attitude I'm trying to be nice to your emo ass." She snaps.

"I wasn't getting an attitude." I mumble.

"Speak up!" She yells.

"I didn't have an attitude!" I yell back. She gets up and slaps me. I just get up and go to my room. I slam the door and lock the door. My mom's probably just gonna go pick up extra hours. What was the point of that stupid dinner. To ridicule me some more? I swear that's her life goal. I go under my bed and get my small box. Inside are about a dozen razors. I pick up my sharpest one. I pull up my sleeve and remove some bracelets.

Another secret no one will ever find out. Especially my brother. My self harm addiction. It started out a few days before my suicide attempt. I decided I was gonna slit my wrists so I made some practice cuts. Of course, I liked how it made me forget about the other shit in my life and calmed me down.

After my suicide attempt it became crazy. Night after Night cut after cut. If my brother ever found out, he would die. He went through it when he was younger and made me promise to NEVER do it. So it would kill him if I he found out.

I make a few quick slices and watch the blood rise in little beads. I smile. I instantly feel calm. I get my bandages and wrap it so it doesn't get infected. Then I lay down. I cut on some music and then try to fall into a somewhat peaceful sleep not knowing what the next day had in store for me.

© Copyright 2015 Aysia Callahan (beautifulmess9 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2037854