Live another day

She stands up against her bedroom door, listening, scared. She can hear her mum and her step dad yelling at each other

"If you bring any other sluts into my house then you can get the fuck out! What kind on man are you!"

"Dont talk like that to me you fucking filthy bitch, my house, my rules! how dare you say this is your house! your lucky i dont kick you are your little slut of a daughter out onto the fucking streets!"

She stands there in disappointment. Walking away from her door and walks to her mirror. She stands there looking at herself, long brown hair just above her hip, black shorts that are starting to fray, a white singlet that looks like she got from her mothers time, and her black and white chucks that are nearly falling apart. When she looks in the mirror she thinks to herself 'why cant I be better looking? why dont I have any friends? why am I so ugly? why can I look like the girls out of vogue magazines?'. 

After about 10 minutes of looking in the mirror she walks over to her stereo, opens up the CD player, puts in her favorite CD, turns the volume up to 50 and just laid down on her bed. She lays there listening to the music. It describes different ways to die and how to do it. She listened to one that stuck out to her the most 'blade, bath, blood bath'. She imagined her laying her in a bath full of blood, imagining how much pain she could handle, thinking that her life would just be calm if she just cut a little bit of her body.

She turned her stereo up to 100, still hearing her mother and step father yelling at each other. She then walks into her bathroom just off of her room. Puts the plug into the bath and turns the hot water on. As she gets undressed she thought of places where she could cut herself. She thought the least pain would her her thigh and the most paint would be her wrist and stomach. She then turned off the hot water and slowly got into the bath. She remembered her step dad kept his shavers in the top cupboard in the cabinet above the sink. She then stood up and went over and got the shaver. 

Taking out one blade off the shaver she thought to herself 'do I really want to do this? if i did this would I feel better? maybe it would help me relieve stress?' Grasping the blade and putting it to her wrist she felt the first pinch hit her skin, she ran the blade wright across her wrist holding in the screams she wanted to let out. She goes again, 2, 3, 4, 5 and soon the bath was full of blood. She felt her stress going away, she then went to her other wrist, done the same again, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. But this time they were deeper. 

Soon she felt dizzy. The blood from her wrist just kept coming out. She goes to stand up and run to get a towel, but the water from when she had gotten up to get the shavers had made her slip and smack her head. She was unconchious.