Cheyenne's Story:
It all started when I was about 8. I was young, obvious. American idol came on. Adam Lambert, the outcast of the show, and the gay one. Ever since he came on the show, I admired him. I admired him for being different and for being fine with that. So, I started listening to Kiss, and all the bands he liked. I found that I loved them. Something about this band made me love them. I started dressing, I guess what all the kids said back then, 'goth' days go on, and I got a couple comments. 'Adam will never win because he has fans like you' etc. Honestly, it never really bothered me. I didn't think much of it at the time, again, I was 8. About a year went by, and I met a kid, a year older than me. He was like my best friend. He was cute, but I never had feelings for him. I only ever saw him in the summer when I went to work with my mom. My mom worked at a shop, and her boss used to bring him in every now and then so we could run around. One day, I was leaving with my mom & it was like any other normal day. We arrived him a couple hours passed by. My mom was on the phone talking about something I couldn't understand. When she got off the phone, she looked at me dead in the eye, 'Cheyenne, Tyler was... Hit by a car.'. The words felt like a ton of bricks on top of me. Crushing me. 'is.. Is he okay? He's okay right?" I said. "No, Cheyenne it was bad. He ran into the middle of te road to get his ball. And...". I couldn't believe it. I went to my room and cried. I'd lost my best friend. A week went by, and I just sat in my bed. I didn't want to go to the funeral. It would be too hard. I wouldn't be able to do it. I got into sixth grade two years later. I was a major outcast. I had the hair, the eyes, the nails, the clothing, the everything that what an 'emo girls' had. Every day it was 'go kill yourself' & nothing but taunts. I tried ignoring it. I tried it got to me. I never thought then they said bullying starts in middle school that it would be so soon. As days went by, it got worst. I heard about cutting. I've seen about it. I went home. I knew where my parents kept the razor blades. I took the razor to my wrist. And sliced. 5 slits. Right to my thigh. I felt better. I released the emotional pain to my physical body. Nobody cares. Every time the scars faded, I cut 5 times. I started my wrists. I started my other thigh. I started to feel that it helped. I was addicted. I have to admit I was a little over weight I had a stomach, but not much of one. I started not eating. I got so dark and so distant. Then I met a boy. Brad. We started dating. He helped me. I fell for him. Only to have him break me. So soon. I started getting better but I still cut, and I didn't starve myself as much. Then I met another guy. We dated for a month or two. Then he started hitting me. Telling me I wasn't worth it. Why did I meet him. He was 2 years older than him. I didn't deserve this. I realized he smoke and that he had been hit a couple times as a kid. So s took it out on me. My mom took my phone, reading through my messages. She made me dump him. I was okay with that. Cutting deepened. I was getting taunted every day. Pushed into lockers by girls. The words got worst. I couldn't take it. I'd go home and I'd right and I'd right and right. School ended, and the cutting claimed down because it was summer. Oh how I wanted so badly to end it. End my life. My best friend got a friend and got us to date. June 28. We dated. We've been dating ever since. I am In love with him now. I eat, and I stopped cutting mostly. I made friends, but the bullying doesn't stop. Every day all I think about is how badly I wanna cut. I'm addicted, and I just can't cut. I cut every now and then. But I really can't stop /:
