Save Me

Prologue

A/N: The prologue is a bit boring but it's just to help you guys understand the main character's background. Also, please never ever ever self harm or ever think about suiciding. It is a serious issue and if you're ever down, I'm here for you. You all are here for a reason and you deserve to live.

EXTRA: I have never cut or self harmed, so I have no idea what it feels like. I'm really sorry if it's nothing similar to what it actually is. Please do let me know.

I love you all. :) Thanks & I hope you enjoy! Happy new year everybody! Goodbye 2013, hello 2014! <3

I'm also quite new to writing on wattpad so I'm pretty clueless, please bare with me.

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I rubbed my eyes slowly, my vision starting to clear from its blurry haze. They began to adjust to the blinding light as I squinted several times. Once I sat upright, I discovered how sore my body was and how heavy my head felt. My eyes scanned the room, and suddenly, reality suffocated me.

I was in a hospital.

Questions began pouring into my thoughts.

What happened? Why was I here? Why did my head hurt so much? Why did I feel so weak? So vulnerable? What if I had memory loss?

Brain check. What's my name? Alina Fischer. How old am I? 18. What's my nationality? American, but 10% Japanese, earned from an asian ancestor. Where do I live? California. What's my favorite sport? Soccer.

Everything seemed intact, so the possibilty of memory lost was very unlikely.

I placed my hand on my forehead, rubbing it in hopes that the ache would subside. No luck. As I placed my arm in front of me, my hands flew to my mouth as I gasped. My arm was covered in dried cuts where blood once oozed out.

I started panicking. I started worrying. I started shaking and my heart started racing. I felt like I was goind to faint until it all came crashing back like a tidal wave. It was so overwhelming that I felt like I was drowning - drowning in my memories where no one could save me.

I remembered.

My suicidal attempt. My self harming. My razor. The bullies who pushed me to question my existence. My best friend, Karen who left me when I needed her the most. It was all too much for me as I started crying, like I always did. I shook my head.

Karen no longer wanted to be with me because of all the rumors that surrounded and strangled me. And just like that, my only source of hope dimmed. Vanished. Gone.

How long was I here? Where were my parents? Why was I still alive? How did they save me?

I sighed and buried myself into my knees. I didn't want to be alive.

No one liked me.

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1 year later

I'm sick of all this! If I'm going to live, it sure as hell better be a life worth living. These were my first thoughts when I returned from the hospital. My parents were still extremely shocked at my behavior and action, so they were willing to do anything in their power to prevent it from happening again.

I decided that I didn't care anymore. I would not tolerate anything from all those bullies. Nothing. I would show them what I was capable of.

I threw out my glasses and replaced them with contacts. I tossed out my elastics which used to keep my hair in nice pretty braids. Gone. How could I even stand those? The only thing pulling my nerdy look back up was possibly my new braces. But they weren't that bad. Or so I hoped.

It was always me so open to critisicm and insults - I was the one victimizing myself by believing what they all said. Well that needed to change. No comment was going to bring me down, so if neccessary, would bully back to show I was not afraid.

I moved schools, from Caliville High School to California Northwest High. It was more expensive and was located in a smaller city, but I was fine. My parents vowed to do whatever they could to help me. I guess it had its advantages, but I did not want to be pitied forever for that mistake.

I started trying out new clothes and new aspects and inventions of the world. Makeup? Fashion? I barely new what that black pencil was used for. Seriously, why would anyone want to draw black lines on their face? Yeah, I was very behind.

But most importantly, I stopped cutting. I was clean - fresh. I had a reason to live. I guess. I just didn't want to die. I never thought that through. I mean, what happened after this? Would I fall into an eternal hole? Would I completely lose myself? Or would I end up in the place they called Heaven? Where I wold go after? Well that scared me more.

The first few months were honestly hard. I struggled so much and the urge was lurking in the shadows. It was awful, but I knew that I had to overcome it. It wasn't okay to make myself suffer because of what others said. I was here to live and enjoy it.

It was my quiet, elderly neighbors who saw me self harming and crying from their window. I was about to jump off my roof for the final attempt, but I think I lost too much blood to find the energy to get up. That couple usually never bothered us though. It made me think, why? At this time when I was about to end it, they noticed? I felt like it was more than a coincidence. Possibly a sign from God. A sign that I needed to live and stay.

After that, I was brought to the hospital.

I didn't have many friends at the new school because of the rumors escalating - everyone knew them, but they didn't know if it was true. The rumors? I selfharmed. If only their thoughts were more hopeful and positive, they'd see the actual potential in me. The real me, before the dark and worry consumed me. The ecstatic, carefree, energetic, happy me. But only my parents and I knew that.

And that self was long buried.

I've changed. And yet it still bothers me when people are scared to talk to me because of my old fragility. I'm stronger now. I don't need people treating me like cheap glass. And although my razor has never been thrown away, I promised to never commit suicide.

Because I believe I can do it, because it will get better. Because I deserve better. Or so they say.

I guess people do care.

Maybe I'm not who I was before, but I can still make it through the day.

Although my life was saved, physically. I don't think I - the actual me - was saved. Because I am no longer that happy-go-lucky, ecstatic, carefree, energetic and happy little girl.

And I don't think I ever will be.