( before you read this... warning.... self injury, suicide thoughts, guilt feelings)
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awesamdude pov
I was sitting alone in my room. It was already dark outside and I could hear monsters moving around outside. A severe headache plagued me, as it does every evening. Alone... as always with my thoughts and my fears.
Why am I doing this to myself...
Why don't I just end it?
why don't I get help...
why do i get up every morning to live through the same torments as every day and then ask myself the same thing in the evening?...
why?...
why?...
i branched out on myself... i slowly noticed how the tears came and ran down my cheeks like they do every evening. They burned on my injuries and on my cheeks. I alngsam reached for the knife and did what I did every night.
Ritsch....
Ratsch....
Ritsch...
I heard the blade slide over my dry and broken skin and the pain came again. Every day the wounds became deeper... every day it became more... my legs were soon full and I have to find another place where I can do it. This hole is eating more and more into my heart and soul every day... every day the same... and every day the same pain. I slowly looked down at my legs, the blood dripping from my legs to the floor. Slowly I straightened up and dragged myself down. Fran came whimpering up to me and licked my hand. I knew that Fran was worried and wanted to help me, but I didn't let her help me. I looked around my house and sighed. It had been a long time since I had last cleaned up. Everywhere things lay around and it roc incredibly bad. I had probably forgotten something in the refrigerator. The refrigerator I used as good as no longer. I had for weeks no real hunger pangs and wen I ate something, it came me a few minutes later back up. It was so bad that you could see my ribs completely. I was quite skinny... I have to admit that, but I just couldn't get anything down. Fran sat whimpering in front of her bowl and looked at me.
sorry fran..."
I apologized. When I talked lately it was mostly excuses or I yelled at dream to be quiet.
The people in the smp have all forgotten me anyway... it wouldn't matter if I died...
I whimpered softly and opened a can of food for fran. Slowly I put the food into fran's bowl and watched her eat. Fran was the only one who still stood by me. I looked at my cell phone and sighed. There were no new messages. I threw the phone into the corner and got angry. Smoke rose from my mouth and I growled. I hit the kitchen wall and punched until my hands were completely bloody and aching. I did that often without reason. The wall was already bloody so much I hit them. Slowly, I had no more feeling in my hands or could move them, let alone. Probably I had broken my fingers by my doing. Tears ran down my cheeks again and my knees became weak . I slid down the wall and pressed my head against the wall.
When will it stop?
A whimper came from fran who came to comfort me. She pressed herself against me and whimpered more, her soft white fur soiled with blood. I just started crying even more. I felt so helpless and alone. No one would talk to me. Nobody wanted to have anything to do with me. Ponk hated me, foolish had probably forgotten about me and so had the others in smp. I felt so terribly shitty.... So unbelievably awful... I am worth nothing and mean nothing to anyone..... i disillusioned everyone... i'm such a terrible person... it's best i don't exist at all.... Throw me off a bridge and kill me... slit my wrists and bleed to death.... Drown me.... I'm sorry..... ponk, foolish, george, bad, karl, Q, boomer, hannah..... i'm sorry.....
i'm sorry....
So infinitely sorry...
please help....
help me
please...
...
701 words
