Falling

16 2 0
                                    

Hello! I am probably going to rename the story...please give me ideas as you get a feel for the plot! This story is based off of fact and fictional events. Please vote, comment, and tell the truth! I want your honest opinion on my writing! I will stop with the jibber jabber jabber and let you read!

*******************************************

CAUTION: STORY MAY BE TRIGGERING

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Alice! Lunch is ready!" Sandy, my mother called. ugh. Food. Another day of lying about a stomach ache. "Sandddyyy, My stomach hurts really bad!" "Alice! You said that yesterday and last weekend! Along with every weekend before that! Are you okay?" Sandy asks worriedly. "Yes! Of course! Just a tummy ache." I responded quickly, fearing her response. "Well I'll take you to the doctors office just in case. We leave in 1 hour." My hands got clammy, and started shaking. Nonono! This can't happen! As soon as the bedroom door shut I dove under my bed and grabbed the 1/2 gallon jug of water I keep for emergencies. I popped off the cap and started chugging. I stopped after 1/4 of the bottle was down, to let my stomach start to expand. I repeated this cycle till the

cycle till the bottle was empty. I finished with 15 minutes to spare, and got in my my most baggy clothes. I met Sandy outside with 5 minutes to spare.

At the office the doctor weighed me, and said that I was the perfect weight (120) for my height and age (5'7; 13). Sandy smiled and said "Good good..." The doctor checked my stomach and sighed "There seems to be a bit of malnourishment, but that will be solved in time, you are free to go :)" Sandy and I left and went home.

As soon as we got home I went upstairs, and Sandy went into the basement/gym and started blasting her music. When I got upstairs I went to the toilet and jabbed my finger into the back of my throat untill all the water was out. I became upset with myself, because Jake hated it when I purged. I started crying, and went into my room. As I knelt by my bed I reached under and pulled out my kit. In it was every blade you could imagine; xacto, pencil sharper, shower razor, all the way to pocket knives and kitchen scisors. When I made my selection I went to the xacto knives, smallest of them all. Then I pulled out the lighter. I put the blade in the flame till it shone orange. I felt a smile tug at my lips as I drug the blade run across my skin. The intense searing of the heat, and ripping the blade caused made me feel pleasure. This is my escape. Welcome to the world of depression, where anyone can come in, but not everyone can come out.

FallingWhere stories live. Discover now