I walked down the school halls trying to avoid conversation. I opened my locker quickly and grabbed my bag. My oversized sweatshirt covered my frail arms damaged by society- I cut. I'll be blunt there. I don't know why I do. I certainly don't want attention.. I wouldn't call myself suicidal.. it's more of a habit than a desperate cry for attention. I don't like it either. I hate it. I hate it so much but I keep doing it. I closed my locker and started for the doors. I pushed my hair behind my ear as someone bumped into me, and not paying attention, I let my papers fall to the floor. My textbook hit my arm, making me wince. I could feel my cuts opening again. I bent down and started picking up my stuff. The guy who ran into me helped pick up the papers. His jet black hair fell over his cold eyes. I quickly stood up and he placed the papers on the stack in my hands. He looked at my hands, and his expression slightly. He had an annoyed look plastered on his face. I quickly looked down and noticed my hands had blood on them.

"What's that?" I gave him a dirty look. "I fell down the stairs at home," i said. He looked back at my hands and looked back up and me with an annoyed face. I turned to the door and walked outside. I felt my eyes water. 'great! Now he's going to tell everyone! He probably thinks I'm an attention whore.' I wemt straight home, trying not to cry. I opened the door and slammed it behind me. I threw my bag on the floor, and ran upstairs. I walked into the bathroom, and closed the door. I pulled up my sleeve to find that some of my cuts had opened. I felt my tears dripping onto my wrist. I opened the drawer and pulled out a blade. I leaned my head against the wall and brought the blade to my skin. I pushed down and dragged the blade along my wrist. I felt a sharp sting in my arm. I watched as the blood slowly rose out of the cut. I heard the doorbell ring downstairs. I quickly wrapped toilet paper around my arm and pulled my sleeve down. I ran down the stairs, wiping away any tears left on my cheeks. I opened the door, and my eyes widened. It was the boy who had helped me earlier.

"You forgot this," he said, shoving a textbook in my hands. "Thank you," I said and quickly close the door. A hand stops the door before it closed. He pushed the door open.

"I wanted to ask you," he says. He grabs my sleeve and pulls it up. The pathetic toilet paper bandage fell to the ground revealing my secret... once again. His raised his eyebrows. I felt myself crying again. He just stared. His grip got tighter, and he wouldn't let go.

"P-Please stop uh.. Just Just let go!" I say frantically say.

"It's Levi." he says, letting go. He sounded angry. I watched as he left, and I slammed the door behind him. 'Great! He definitely thinks I'm an attention whore.' I fell on my knees. I didn't feel like cutting anymore. I knew it would just lead to something else like that. But why was he angry? After all, I am just a stupid teenage girl. I picked up my bag and put the papers In it. I sighed, and walked into the living room, laying down on the couch. I turned the Tv on and slowly fell asleep.


I woke up and realized that I was late for school. I decided since we weren't really doing anything, I'd stay home. After all, I didn't have any parents to object. Plus I had missed the first three periods. I went to the kitchen, and grabbed a pop-tart.


For the rest of the day I did absolutely nothing. School got out "right... about... now!" I said, looking at the clock. I sighed and kept watching tv. I was about to change the channel when I was interrupted when I heard loud knocks on the door. I got up but the Knocks continued. I opened the door to see Levi.

"L-Levi?!" He steps in the house, throwing some papers on the table.

"Just seeing if you were fucking dead or not" He snaps, almost yelling. I could feel myself getting weak at the knees. Just his presence made me weak. Not in a good way though- he scared me.

"What gives you the right to yell at me!? You don't even know my fucking name!? Or what I've been through? So don't bother to come back!" I yell back. His eyes widened and he snickered.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were a selfish bitch," he says. His expression quickly turns back to his usual stoic one. But I could still see the flicker of disgust in his eyes. He turned around and left without another word. I closed the door, but held onto the knob. I leaned my head against the door, and listened as his car took off.

"Fuck you!...." I squeezed my eyes shut, and kicked the door.

"I HATE YOU" I kicked the kitchen chair over and it hit the ground with a loud bang

Okay sorry that this chapter was really bad. For those of you who are reading this for amusement, thank you, for those of you who have cut or have been clean, thank you. And please stop. Don't put any more marks on your body. Trust me, I know it's hard. But it's worth it. If I were there with you I would give you a great big hug. But since I'm not, I will send you a virtual hug.

(づ ̄ ³ ̄)づ
I love you.

Stay clean.

Peeze oot.


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