Worthless (trigger warning)

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You all are going to hate me for this, but trigger warning.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once I got to my house I checked the time, 8:50. Thank god. I ran upstairs to my room and locked the door. I threw my bag next to my computer. I sat on my bed, which was right next to my computer, and just stared, at my closet door. Why am I so warm? Oh yeah, Dlive gave me his sweatshirt, ha. I heard the door open downstairs.

“Gunner, where the fuck are you boy?!” I flinched when he said the f word. I got up and walked downstairs.

“I’m here dad.” I kept my head down so he wouldn’t have to see my face.

“Good, now go to your room I don’t want to see you again until tomorrow.” I nodded and ran upstairs.

“And where did you get that ugly sweater, faggot?” I flinched once again when he called me a “faggot”.

“My friend gave it to me.” He snorted and took a drink out of his flask.

“Yeah right you have friends, probably stole it.” I muttered “whatever” and went back to my room. I sat on my bed and put my head in between my knees and started to cry. I was a good day but he always has to and ruin it. Why does he have to do that?

“Cry quieter you worthless piece of trash.” He screamed at me though the door. I crawled out of my bed and into my bathroom connected to my bedroom and sat on the floor. TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING. I rolled up my sleeves to my past mistakes, all the cuts and bruises, the burns and scratches, all these things I’ve done to myself, except the bruises my dad did those. I opened my cabinet and removed the familiar silver metal. Before I did anything I removed the sweater Dlive gave me, I don’t want to get blood on it. I took the blade and held it in my hand. Should I? I mean, no one would care right? Maybe Dlive would, but what he doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him. I took the blade to my skin and felt the cold metal cut across it. I watched my own life force come out of my body. All the hateful words replayed in my head.

Ugly.

Worthless.

Faggot.

No good waste of space.

Emo fag.

I stared at the new cuts on my wrists feeling the pain come out slowly. I washed off my wrist and wrapped a bandage around it. I cleaned the blood off the floor, the sink, and the blade. I picked up Dlive’s sweater and made sure no blood got to it. Yep, looks perfectly fine. I took off my tank top and jeans and put on Dlive’s sweater and felt its warmth against my skin. What if he hates me after he finds out, what if he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore? No, he’s not like that. At least, I think he isn’t. I shook the thoughts from my head and crawled into bed. Maybe I can go to his house again tomorrow? We’ll find out.

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