Why Did You Want to Kill Me?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Alone, no one could ever understand, everyone had left. She was alone, what could she do? The first cut was the best...

Submitted: November 28, 2011

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Submitted: November 28, 2011

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She held it in for two whole days. All of the pain, fear, and disapointment she burried deep down inside. She wasn't week, she wouldn't give in. She convinced herself that she could conquer this, but she was wrong. She sat in class and tried to think of other things. She walked down the halls and tried to smile at her friends and classmates. She looked at herself in the mirror and told herself that she was strong. But, all the while, was the lingering pain in the back of her mind.

After three years of waiting the one man in the whole world that she had ever loved had opened up to her. They had been friends for those years but he had been dating someone else. This 'someone else,' Anna,  was older, prettier, and better than her and he couldn't get over the pain. They had been broken up for over three months and he wasn't any better than he had been a day afterwards. He was still crying himself to sleep, he was still unable to think of anything but her. For one month he pretended to like this girl that he had been friends with for years. He held her in his arms, kissed her on her lips, and took her out to dinner. Then he left for a month to go to a new job and to try to mive on from his old relationship. Then he came back.

She had waited for him. She kept in contact with him and waited for him to come back, thinking that he still cared. Then, in one night he ripped her apart. The whole thing had all been an expirement. He stood in front of her saying that she was an amazing person, that anyone would be lucky to have her, that she was beautiful, she she knew that while he was saying all these things to her, he was thinking about his ex and how she was so much better. She had trusted him, she had layed her heart on the line for him. And he knew how little she opened up to people. And still, at the end of the day, he ripped her open and threw her on the ground.

So, after two days she couldn't do it anymore. She tried to pretend that she was okay. She went to Starbucks and bought hot chocolate to try to deal with the pain. But nothing helped. So, she ran to her car. Through rain that was pourinjg down and wind that threatened to make her fall, she ran. Once she got to her car she just stood there. Getting wet, attempting still to hide the tears. Her breath came in gasps as she tried to control herself, but she couldn't. She got into her car and pulled out her razor and started to take it apart.

"Why am I doing this?" she thought to herself as she worked. But she knew why she was doing it. Regardless of all the times that she thought she never could make herself bleed, now that was all that she wanted to do. The first slice was pathetic because she was scared. Then she cut deeper and the blood began to flow.

Beautiful, he said she was beautiful. The first person to ever say that she was beautiful and he said while he ripped her heart out.

By the end of the night her wrist was covered in horizontal red lines, and he arm declared that she was 'Beautiful.' But she just wasn't beautiful enough to make him see.

 


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