The Messed Up Story Of My Life..

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I can feel it again. It's calling me. It's crushing through my bones. To the surface of my skin. I'm reaching, being forced by myself to reach for the blade. Reach for anything that will do damage.     But the damage feels so good.

I wanna cut. It's as simple as that, the feeling is crawling over my skin like it wants the surface to be broken, the blood to drip down my arm. Down my leg, anywhere and everywhere. But i can't.

It's only 7 pm and i haven't had dinner yet and if mum walks in and sees it then she'll know. She won't understand, but she'll know. And she can't know because of the fact that she doesn't and will not ever understand.

She's always been perfect. Blonde hair, blue eyes, not tiny in height but shorter than most (which made her look cute and people loved it), she's always been skinny and liked by nearly all and then there's me.

I'm really really short but i'm also fat; mum says it's because i haven't had my "growth spurt' yet but everyone knows that i'm never gonna change and i'll always be this horrible person. I have brown hair that is realy bad if i don't spend like an hour every morning and every night styling it and i'm not pretty.

I don't think i'm pretty at all but i can't say this around people because then they say that you're an attention seeker but if you say you're pretty then you're also an attention seeker. You can't win at anything well i can't

. If i say something it's like i'm automatically wrong or someone has a better point, view or opinion just because they're better looking than i am. But mind you everyone is prettier than i am.

Also my eyes change colour. Yes my eyes change clour and people decide to tease me for this. My eyes might be the prettiest colour you've ever seen one day and some bitch will make me feel like a freak because my eyes aren't the same every single day of every single week of every single month of every single year. But honestly i don't know how many years i have left.

Sometimes i just wanna be gone. And by sometimes i mean nearly 98% of the time. I've become so good at the "fake smile" that nobody can tell when i'm upset anymore because then i would be upset all the time and then people would tease me even more and make me feel worse.

Honestly i don't fully know what's caused all this, I mean last year i was happy. I was so bubbly i would be sad a little tiny bit but not for long i was just the happy one and i know that inside that person is completely gone but i have to act like she's still here. Still controlling my life when i know she's not. My life is controlled by my demons. And i don't know of which kind.

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