My Last Three Years (Finished)

Chapter 9

Soon after, we left the hospital and my mom drove us to Cam's house. Nash helped me into the house and we took a seat on the coach in Cam's MASSIVE room.
His room was like the size of my house. Okay... Maybe not that big... But like... It's big.
It red, it has a bunk bed, but instead of having another bed on the bottom, it has s desk. It's like an office area. And then he has three couches and a tv. It have an Xbox, Play Station, and like a bunch of other gaming systems hooked up to it. He had like 5 laptops, 2 desktops, and 1 air printer. He also has an iPhone 6s+. The kid is rich as fuck. But he doesn't like bragging about it or acting it. He acts as if he's a normal kid. His dad is some big-shot construction dude. And his mom is an inventor. She invented the keurige coffee maker. His house is like 5 times the size of mine. It's like twice the size of the school. It's fucking insane. It's got 4 floors. And a gym, indoor pool (it's kinda small, but still), a indoor hot tub (it fits like 10 people!), 7 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms, 3 living rooms, 1 kitchen, and 2 dinning rooms. It's like a freaking hotel. He rarely has anyone over. But I guess since it was all of us... And considering what happened, he decided to have us over for once.
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After dinner at Cam's house-
Nash brought me home after we had dinner at Cameron's house. He had to go because his mom wanted him home.
This was my first time being home without my dad, drinking himself dead or beating me dead. My mom pushed my wheel chair into my room. She called my oldest brother, Tom, into my room, and then lifted me onto my bed. I told them I was tired and wanted to rest. My mom kissed my forehead and said goodnight then her and Tom left my room, closing the door behind them.
As soon as they left I felt a lump in my throat. I know this feeling. It's the feeling I get right before I'm about to burst out in tears.
Tears started streaming down my face and it made everything to much harder to breath. I was gasping for air and wheezing but I didn't even care. It felt kind of good. To be so close to death.
I caught my breath and whipped some tears away but they kept coming back. I learned is to breath and cry at the same time so I opened the drawer next to my bed and took out my knife.
When I was younger before my brother was born and my dad started mistreating us, he used to take me out and teach me how to shoot a bow and arrow. Then he'd buy me knifes and teach me how to carve things into wood. I had 7 knifes hidden around my room, but this one was my favorite. It was the sharpest.
I rolled up the sleeve of my sweater and opened up the blade. I look at my arm and saw all the scars that were there. My right arm was full of scars. I was trying to figure out how to do this with a cast on my hand, but I figured it out.
I put the blue metallic knife to my arm, and slide it across. I thought of all the things my dad has done to me. Or all the things my friends have said that maybe they didn't mean, but they still hurt. I thought of everything that has happened in the past day and he past 15 years of my life. I thought of how much I fucking hate my ire, and I drew another one on my arm.
The blood rushed out and I was quick to slide my finger over it with a tissue. After a few fresh lines, I closed the knife and put it back in my drawer. I took some bandage wrap and wrapped my arm with it. Then I room some tape and tapped the bandage.
I slid my sleeve back down and close my eyes. Slowly, I start to drift off to a sleep that I wish lasted forever.
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Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in awhile. I've been busy. I'm so sorry about what happened yesterday in Paris! Sending my best to everyone who has been effected by this in some way! SORRY FOR ALL THE ERRORS!!! I don't check chapters before I publish them and I really should but I'm sorry I don't!