girl in peices ~eo~

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*warning: sh*
please do not read if you do not like the topic of self harm.
Eliza aged- 15
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Eliza's POV

"Baby, what are you doing in there!?" Mom gratingly knocks on the door, instantly making me panic as I snap out of my trance. "Nothing!" I say unconvincingly, wincing at myself as I do so. "Can I come in?" Mom asks in desperation, almost as if she's eager to see me, almost like she knows.

I look around at my mess feeling abashed at what I have done. "No, not right now mom." My voice breaking at the end of my sentence, practically giving myself away. "Let me in, please." She says, trying to open the locked door.

I quickly grab a cloth without hesitation, beginning to clean up the bloody mess I made on the bathroom floor. "Open the door, Eliza." Mom orders in a firm and strict tone. "Just a second!" I harshly retort, making my mom tug at the door even harder. "Eliza Olsen open the god damn door!" She yells to which I swiftly pull down my oversized shirt and open the door.

Mom observes me for a second, clearly trying to read me. "What?" I snap, feeling a slight annoyance at her actions. Mom pauses for a second. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong." I try to sound reassuring, but my tone yet again gives me away. "Eliza..." mom says in a moderately demanding tone, gently keeping my arm in her gentle clutch to keep me from walking away.

"Mom please." I grunt, annoyed at her perseverance. "No. I'm not letting you go until you tell me what's wrong!" She declares, looking at me with determination. I sigh at her before shrugging her arm of me and attempting to leave when she suddenly pulls me back by my lower waist.

I hiss out in pain, accidentally alerting her. "Are you hurt?" I perilously shake my head in response, earning a raised brow from my concerned mother.

"Let me see", mom commands in a deadly serious tone. She begins to lift my shirt up in curiosity of my strange behaviour. I unmeaningly slap her hand back down in apprehension, making her feel more perturbed. "Sweetheart come on." Mom encourages, trying to keep me still as I fight back against her, desperately trying to push her away from me.

"Eliza!" Mom gushes, holding me still and hastily lifting my long shirt all the way up-

Mom's hand quickly raises to cover her mouth as she stares in shock, a heart wrenching sob leaving her mouth. I do nothing but stand there feeling ashamed and embarrassed as my own mother looks as if she is about to breakdown because of me.

"Oh baby..." she muffles through her hand as it trembles with consternation. "my sweet girl, why are you hurting yourself?" I look to the floor, avoiding eye contact with my mom's sad and conflicted eyes, already feeling enough shame.

She was bound to find out someday, that woman knows me like the back of her hand. It's almost impossible to keep a secret from her. It was only yesterday she talked to me about my 'odd behaviour.' She was constantly asking me if I'm okay and checking on me, making sure I'm eating and drinking properly, lying next to me as I fall asleep to make sure I don't stay up too late.

I think it's sweet but it's also a little suffocating. I wanted to tell her everything from the moment I even began to feel sadness, the moment I began to feel pain. I used to always go to her when I was sad, but as it got worse I didn't want her to resent me for it.

My dad is too dense to understand, however. For instance, the other day he said I look depressed in a jokey tone causing an argument between him and mom as she lectured him for it. But I also know my dad means well, he didn't mean to insult me with his words. When I looked at myself, I understood what he meant. I looked horrible. It was no wonder why mom was acting the way she was towards me, showering me with her love and care.

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