"this is stupid." i murmur looking at the welcoming blade.
"but i'm just as stupid." i whisper, pulling it closer to me.
i ignore the ringing telephone in the background as i let the sharp edge dance on my skin.
i let out a shagged sign as a tsunami of tears come rushing down my face.
"in the end, maybe i'll be alright." i lie to myself, faking a smile.
this is it, some stupid little blade is going to define my last seconds on earth.
it's going to change everyone's opinion of me. i'll be: dan, the weak coward who thought life was just too hard.
"i've given it my best, and it just wasn't good enough." i whimper as i let the razor sink in deeper.
{a/n: lol, sorry?}
YOU ARE READING
wrong number !! phan
Short Story"wrong number." says a familiar voice. (a/n look sis i wrote this when i was a dumbass kid and like 15 years old. this shit is tough. i romanized depression and suicide and honestly i'm a dumbass bitch ass whore. i'm toxic and feel free to cancel me...
