Post by disconekro on Jun 27, 2008 21:01:50 GMT -5
I need to feel pain…I want to feel it now. I promised many people that I would not do this again. Time and time again when they were worried I would give my weathered word that I wouldn’t let it happen again. But then, I had the medicine to help me stay stable. Then, I wasn’t so unhappy with life. Then, I had motivation. But now, the medicine is gone. And with the medicine left everything else that was good in my life. It is a shame really, I obviously enjoyed being happy. Now I have nothing, I can barely get myself out of bed. I have been hurting myself in other ways in order to delay this from happening. Sleeping around so that I got pleasure from the experience and pain when they wouldn’t call. Snapping rubber bands on my wrist so that I got a little stinging sensation. Drinking myself to sleep and waking up in puke. Getting high and driving home, praying that I would wreck so that this would all end. But now, that stuff doesn’t severely appeal to me. Now I want to see my blood. I want to cut like I did in the good old days. My scars are fast fading and it makes me angry to see them go. I want new ones. I don’t have much to cut with though. I have my razor but it just stings really bad when I cut with it. I have scissors, but they aren’t that sharp, I want to do some damage. I wish I had my straight razor, it was amazing. I have my folding knife in my hand before I realize it. Best to go into the bathroom, so I don’t freak my dorm mate out. Lock both doors so my suite mate’s can’t get in. Now where to cut hmmm let’s see. The wrists are really my favorite but they are the most noticeable. My thighs would work but I’m afraid the guy I’m dating would notice them…Oh well, he would probably notice them anywhere. I’m pretty sure I can hide my wrists, just need to wear bracelets. I hold my favored left arm over the sink and bring the blade to eye level. I have missed this so much. I need to make it last. I’ll start slow and work my way deeper. I push the knife into the skin and close my eyes in ecstasy as the nerves in my body tell me not to do this, that it will hurt us. I want it to hurt. I slash across my veins quickly and wait for the warmth to leak out. But nothing happens. I look down in shock at my whole, untouched wrist. I slowly put the blade up to my wrist again and stare in disbelief as I drag it deep across my wrist and it doesn’t so much as leave a red mark. This can’t be happening. I repeatedly drag the blade back and forth up and down my arms as deep and quick as I can, but still nothing happens. I try my legs and stomach, slashing everywhere hard and fast. Nothing. I start crying uncontrollably. This can’t be happening! I need this, why won’t it work? I grab my razor from the shower and try to peel the skin back from my shin. It still won’t work. In a rage I punch the mirror and watch the shards hit the sink. I put a jagged one up and slash again and again all over my body. Nothing! f*cking nothing! In a frenzy I stab myself in the chest with the sliver. Through the heart. It worked. I gasp and look down at the gaping wound. Blood is bubbling from the wound, the piece of mirror is still in me. Blood starts bubbling from my mouth and I finally realize that the rest of my body is in a bloody ruin. The knife worked, my wrists and arms are practically slashed to the bone and my stomach is in rivulets. The razor worked, my shins have absolutely no skin left on them. Why didn’t I notice before? Why couldn’t I see it working? I look at myself through what is left of the mirror. I’m dying. I look like I was dipped in red dye, but the dye is obviously coming from my body because the cuts are so deep that the blood is seeping out in thick streams of red. I fall to my knees, my vision is getting dizzy. I killed myself unknowingly. I did this. No one else. Me. I have so many things that I need to do. So many people I need to say goodbye to. So many things to say. But I can’t, and I won’t ever. This is it. So I die here in this bathroom, with my heart still pierced, slumped but still kneeling by the sink.