The blood trickled down his arm with no reaction towards the pain caused from one blade. Lane had been used to this for a long time now. All the cuttings and accidents during school attempting to cut him with scissors scared his mother intensively now she had a close eye on him. But when he was ten years old but his mom never understood why he had did that. Then after a few months his mother died of breast cancer. Lane cried all night with no one there to hold him. His father wasn’t much of a dad now after he had left lane standing there with no shoulder to cry on.
They were all a happy family once before until the incident about his mother had torn him apart. His mother had meant the whole world to lane. He never smiled anymore his black hair hung all around his face as if he were looking depressed. Everyone would always question about whether or not he was okay. But his father’s reaction is what really killed him the most the most dreadful pain no one has ever been through before. Gary never shed a single tear because the last time him and his mother talked was when they were fighting because he was so drunk. Lane balled up his fist trying not to remember about what happened in the past what his father did to him.
But the visions kept coming back from the memory about the game his father played with him. When lane was little his father used to beat him up until he turned black and blue and stuff him in a closet and locked him in there. So lane figured that it was a new game he never knew how to defeat the game because his father always won. Lance bounced back in focus and started to cry he couldn’t see the blade very well through his tears.
He steadily grabbed his favorite blade that he found lying around in his mother’s room one day. Tars formed and fell down his face observing this wonderful gift to get rid of this pain. I know it’s not healthy but I have to get rid of the pain somehow he thought. He began tearing at his flesh inch by inch slashing vigorously at his arm. Then blood squirted out as he saw the blood trickling down his hands starting to tremble then he kept debating in his head whether or not he should stop. But he continued slashing and slicing at his wrist and then slowly worked his way up to his arm. Tears fell down again then he stopped because he had heard the sound of footsteps near his door.
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Book / Thrillers
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Romance
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