How cutting helped me.

I'm not quite sure where this story is going to go, but I know it's going to be based off most of my life, so I hope you enjoy, even though this story has probably no purpose. xD @HelloThurmanBiersack I love you. Thanks for always helping me and being there. <3

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It was 11 p.m. No one was awake, and it was basically the only time I could actually do what makes me happy. I took out my key chain and found the gold key. I grabbed my silver box off my dresser, and unlocked it. On top was ordinary things like, yarn, bookmarks, DS games. However, when you removed the top tray, you would see an abundance of yarn and a hand towel, hiding a razor, and a knife.

I pulled out the razor the towel, and sat at the end of my bed. I lay the towel out, so blood couldn't get onto my bed sheets. I pulled up my sleeve of my right arm, and removed my bracelets that covered up my current cuts. I scan my wrist, looking for a new place to cut. I found it. Right in the middle. Across my wrist from left to right. I pressed the razor deep into my skin, already feeling some blood seeping out.

I slowly pulled the razor through my skin, making a dent in my wrist. I put the razor down and stare at the cut. Now my blood was dripping to the middle of my hand. I watched it for a long time, but finally patted it with a towel, and put the towel and razor back into the box, shutting and locking it. I put my bracelets back on, and pull my sleeve down. Realizing what I just did, and how horrible my life is, made me realize that this will happen again. Except for when it does, it will be worse.

I started to cry. I wish I could just go and die. Be away from everyone. Somewhere I could be alone. Have peace and happiness. That won't happen as long as I'm still here. Next thing you know my phone starts buzzing. It was Keri. She texted me, assuming that I already or was about to cut. "Savannah, I know you probably already cut, but just stop. You don't need this. You deserve better than how you are treating yourself. Please. Stop."

I wish I could tell her how hard I was trying. It seems to be however, that everytime I get home, I only realize I cut myself, AFTER I do it. I didn't know what to posible tell her. She is going to hate me the next time she sees my wrist. Should I hide it? No. You have to be strong and show her how hard and how dedicated she is going to have to be to help me stop. I just wish there was some way to banish myself from this world, so I could just be alone, forever.