I was sitting on my bed. Headphones in. Music super, super loud. And a knife that sat next to me on my bed. I looked at it, and decided I would do it again. I rolled up my sleeves, picked up the knife and put it against my scarred arm. I cut slowly and sighed softly as I relished the feeling. I watched as the blood oozed out. I did it again on my other arm. Tears escaped my eyes and I cried and sobbed in my pillow, I didn't cry because of the pain on my arm I cried because of the reason I had to do it. I cried because of the hate, I cried because of the rumours, I cried because I wanted it to stop. I cried because I was sick and tired of it. I cried because I wanted to die...
I switched my phone on and logged onto Facebook. I stared at the recent hateful comments and messages.
Eww ugly, fat *****! I can't even say ya ***** name Cos I might become like you. Why don't you just die?
I stared at the last sentence of the message. Why don't you just die? Why don't you just die? Why don't you just die? It felt like the words were now officially printed on my heart. I wanted to scream, I wanted to shout at the top of my lungs and say "I've tried that, I've tried so many times to end my life, to die!"
But I didn't know why I hadn't done it already, there were ways of doing it without the pain and there were ways of doing it with the pain. I don't know which one I'd prefer. With or without the pain?
3 weeks later
*Brrinnng Brrinnng Brirnnng*
I suddenly woke up from my loud alarm clock; I rolled my eyes tiredly as I switched it off. I sighed and jumped out of bed.
I quickly showered and shoved on a black hoodie and black jeans. I stared at my ugly self in the mirror whilst I dried my dyed black hair and brushed it through. I remember the first time I had dyed my hair, I was 14. Two years later and I'm still black haired. I used to be blonde haired and blue eyed, but now I'm black haired but still blue eyed though with all my black eye makeup you can't even tell. I got out my makeup and put on black eyeliner and mascara, and then I put on a pale white foundation. I know I probably looked like a pale gothic ghost but I preferred it that way.
I picked up my bag and ran downstairs and out the front door. I didn't bother with breakfast...well to be honest with you I can't even remember the last time I had actually eaten breakfast. I know if my grandparents were downstairs in the morning with me they would have forced me to eat. That was one of the things I loved about them...they cared and they showed it. Unlike my stupid parents they didn't even give a crap. I bet they wouldn't even care if I died.
I pulled on my hood and put in my headphones from my iPod. I changed the music to Demi Lovato's Skyscraper and listened to it whilst I walked to school.
It was about a 10 minute walk to school.
I reached school and sighed before I walked through the gate. Another day of boredom and hate I thought to myself. But this is my last year of school so after that I'm free! I watched as people gave me dirty looks as I walked through the gate, I pretended I never saw it and just walked on.
But inside I felt like my heart was breaking into two.
I watched as some people shuffled away from me like I was contagious or had the plague or something. There were girls whispering behind their hands and boys who just gave me a disgusted look. Yep, this was everyone! The popular, the geeky and the averages. All of them reacted the same way towards me.
I walked to my form room and sat down at the back of the classroom, whilst I waited for the school bell to ring. I kept my headphones. You couldn't really see that I was wearing my headphones because of my black hair and my hoodie. Obviously though if I hadn't been wearing my hood then I would be told to take my headphones out.
Suddenly a flood of students rushed into the classroom. I knew then that the bell had gone but because of my music I never heard it. People shot glanced my way and sat as far away from me as possible. I knew this even without looking at them. It's the same every single day.
10 minutes later the teacher Mrs Bellamy walked in. She was a short plump old lady. With round harry potter like glasses and a very high pitched voice. I saw her mouth moving but I couldn't make out what she'd said, I lowered the music on my iPod until I could hear her.
"Lucas..." She said.
"Here miss," He replied
"Here miss." I said quietly
She looked up from her register at me. Nodded once, and carried on.
I changed the song on my iPod to Heartattack by Demi Lovato and put the volume full blast. I doodled broken hearts on my book, whilst I waited for the bell to ring. Or shall I say wait for people to get up seeing as I can't even hear anything apart from my music.
3 minutes later people got up to leave and I did the same. I had Science first in class A3. I walked towards A block and lined up behind two other people. There was one boy and one girl they saw me and quickly shuffled away. I didn't say or do anything.
I just pretended I hadn't noticed.
Other people came and they did the same. Some shoved past me then said something like "Oyye slut watch where ya going." I couldn't take it anymore. I knew if I walked away people would think of me as a coward, but I didn't give a damn. I walked towards the nearest girls toilets and then locked myself in. I opened my bag and got out my knife. I always carried it with me...just in case. I stared at the silver blade and then rolled my sleeve up and cut. I sliced my wrists on both arms about 5 times each. I usually only did it once, but I didn't care anymore. I watched as the blood oozed out then I sat on the toilet and cried.
I lied and told my grandparents that I was ill, so that I didn't have to go to school. I'm not sure if they believed me but they never asked. They gave me a box of pills in case I needed it.
I sat on my bed and got out my diary and wrote:
12 February 2013
Same. Again. Hate. Cutting. Knife. Rumours. Broken. Pretend. Ill. Music. Books. Sleep. Nothing. Empty.
Everyone hates me. I pretended I was ill so that I don't have to go through it again. Grandparents believed it...I think. I never asked. They gave me a box of pills for my illness. Yesterday I locked myself in the girl's toilets and cut my wrists, then I bunked off school. I'm NOT going back. I'm going to use the pills in another way. Instead of helping me recover I'm going to eat them all so that I die...yep suicide.
I stared at what I'd written. I flicked through the pages of my diary. Each page is part of my life, I have everything in here. From hating my parents to cutting. From the hate to suicidal thoughts. From depression to rumours. I have my twitter and Facebook details on here so whoever finds this can see the hate.
I closed my diary and placed next to me on the bed. Then I got my iPod and headphones out and put them in. I put on Welcome to my life by Simple Plan. I put the knife under my pillow and I shoved all of the pills in my mouth. As soon as I had finished them I thought about...everything.
I thought about my parents and I thought about my grandparents. I thought about the bullies. I thought about cutting and whether it was right. I even thought about Mrs Bellamy. But mostly I thought about dying, a lot of people are scared of it...but it's really not at all scary. It's a very peaceful thing if it's without the pain.
I closed my eyes as I waited for my life to go...
The last thing I thought about was the song that related so much to me. I listened hard at the lyrics:
'Do you ever feel like breaking
Do you ever feel out of place,
Like somehow you just don't belong
And no one understands you?
Do you ever wanna run away?
Do you lock yourself in your room
With the radio on turned up so loud
That no one hears you're screaming?
No, you don't know what it's like
When nothing feels all right
You don't know what it's like
To be like me
To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No, you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life...'