Sorry, I forgot to add a disclaimer. I don't own the Twilight series or any of its characters.
I walked up the stairs and into the communal bathroom to get a shower and see what the damage was from this morning. When I saw my face in the mirror, I groaned. There were purple bruises everywhere. It would be impossible to cover up completely. Sighing, I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the hot water, wincing as it hit my many bruises and cuts. As I washed my hair, I thought of some excuses for my face... not that anyone would care. They all thought I was a pale freak anyway. Maybe I walked into a glass cabinet... or fell over a tree root. Either way, they would all buy it, if anyone cared to ask. I was known for my clumsiness.
I stepped out of the shower and walked into my room. Pulling out a long sleeved black shirt, and a pair of skinny jeans, I started getting dressed. When I started pulling on my jeans, I felt a sharp pain coming from my side. Looking down, I saw a baseball sized bruise on my hip, from when Charlie pushed me down. That's lovely, I thought to myself. Now I can't even sleep without being in pain.
I looked at the clock. It was 8:20. Just enough time to give myself the ultimate pain killer: a cut. I rolled up the sleeve of my left arm, and reached under the mattress to pull out my trusty knife. Holding my breath, I closed my eyes and pressed the blade to my skin. My nerves screamed in pain as I dug it in deeper, and pulled the knife out with a gasp. Then I started counting to thirty.
Just as I hit twenty- nine, I felt it, the moment I'd been waiting for: release. It was as if the pain had turned itself inside out, so that I felt nothing; I was nothing.
I opened my eyes and looked around my room. Everything was beautifully clear, as if it all had a razor edge.
Cutting makes things easier, makes choices easier. It makes you realize what you have to do. Personally, I think everyone should do it. It would make the world such a better place. No more hesitation... just action.
People call us cutters emo... but that isn't true. We aren't emo, we are free. I am free.
Stashing my knife back under the mattress, I ran down the stairs and out the door. I walked to school, enjoying the wonderful feeling of no feeling at all.
Despite what you think, I am not emo. I just know a lot about the subject, and how it makes someone feel. Thanks for reading! I'll put up the new chapter as soon as possible!! Hands out cyber pancakes