Hope. [COMPLETED]

Prologue.

Pain. Pain is all I ever feel. Mental pain then physical pain to take that away. I never thought I would be the lonely girl in school or the self-harmer. I'm used to the pain from the self-inflicted cuts. One cut eventually turned into ten, soon twenty and then there were so many I eventually lost count.

I don't know what it is the way the blood rises to the service or the burning sensation that temporally takes the mental pain away. The feeling soon became impossible to live without. It felt good whilst on doing it but the next day I would feel shitter than before because I said I was done with it then I would be more angry and upset I actually wasn't done with it. I've lost all control. My body and my soul slowly destroying its self. I lost all faith in myself, lost all hope in life or myself.

I lift my finger and run it over the new wounds or the scars I've made.

You know why people cut? Because it's a distraction. A distraction from everything. For a moment you don't feel anything, you don't feel loss, the hurt, the loneliness. You don't feel any of it. All you feel is the razor being dragged across your skin. The blood dripping down your arm or your stomach thinking about how damage you are or how stupid you feel. You think about the way people talk about you behind your back thinking you don't know. In reality you're in the toilet stall listening to your old friends bitch about you and talk about how you are a 'freak' or 'the girl whose mother died'. When you think all the loneliness and hurt is gone it hits you like a tidal wave. It all comes crashing down. The cuts that aren't fresh enough, and it builds up inside you so you make another cut and another cut. Go a bit deeper so you feel numb.

It's all about control. You have it. You can't control the pain on the inside so you control it on the outside.

I lose control and I barely feel it any more.