The Scars

The Cut, the blood, the scars

Madeline can't take this anymore. Her dad won't stop drinkng, her mom won't stop cheating, and her brother won't stop doing meth no matter how many times she says he's going to hurt himself and possibly die. She runs up to her room and opens her door to reveal her "safe place". Well...as safe as it gets. She closes the door behind her, locks it, and walks to her dresser. She opened the top left drawer and took out a box that once held her favorite present on Christmas day, but was destroyed by her father while he was drunk. She opened the box and pulled out the razor within. She stared at it blankly before she put it down in front of her to close and put the box away. She then picked the razor back up and sat on the floor. Her legs splayed out in front of her. She wondered if she should cut her thigh again or cut her wrist again. She decided her wrist because she did her thigh last time and they're still healing. She pulled up her sleave to reveal a pattern of her cuts. They were all disorganized but she could still see her own cry for help. She wondered if anyone else saw it too...
She gently place the razor into her skin, flinching only slightly as she feels the pain while she traces the old scars. The pain easing her emotions only slightly by each cut she makes. She counted each cut she made and when she was finished, there were 35 deep cuts in her wrist. She watched the blood spill down her arm as her tears fell down from her eyes as well. Why was I put into this life? She wondered. This life is only filled with suffering. If I was put in here for a reason, I don't see it. Why don't I just end my life right now and make everyone happy? She shook her head. I have to stay for Shelley. The one thing she's afraid to leave. The one thing that ever showed love and kindness to her in this world of hatred and cruelty. We all have that one thing we can't bear to leave, right? Sometimes, it's just straight up life we're afraid to leave.
These were words that were hard to believe, but they were true. At least to her. She put down the razor and observed the blood as it raced down her arm. She then remembered shelly's words;
Such an ugly look for a
Beautiful person
Madeline knew she was talking about her skin that was filled with scars. As soon as the blood reached the bottom of her arm, she took the sleeve of her other arm and places it onto the blood. She watched as the cloth soaked up the blood slowly. She brought up her sleeved arm and looked at it. It was soaked in blood.
She got back up after sitting alone for a while and for out the box and put everything away. She pulled her sleeve back down and turned out the lights.
It was pitch black in her room now. She walked to her bed and layed down quietly.
She cried silently as she fell asleep to the sounds of her mother getting hit by her father.
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Hey, it's just a short story and I'm feeling lazy today so there is a cliff hanger and sorry if there is bad grammar. I'm doing this on my phone and it has a mind of its own. =p I will take constructive criticism but don't be too mean please. This is my first story... Thanks, I really hope you enjoyed. ^^