Chapter 2 - Pain.

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Warning: Graphic scenes.

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Taylor's POV:

When I got home, mum wasn't in, thank God. It's safe to say that my mum and I simply don't see eye to eye; never have and never will. And if she saw me in the state I'm in, she'd moan at me for being such a cry baby. She'd say "Stop being dramatic, shut up and go upstairs". She is the spawn of Satan, I swear. It's like she doesn't understand a mental health problem, she's never even bothered to get me counselling because she's convinced it's a 'phase'. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty sure 90% of the teenaged population have a phase of depression, not a real mental problem but just stress and everything built up. But I had been diagnosed. This was real and unfortunately for herself and I, it wasn't going to just go away, but she didn't see that. I tried to talk to her, but she just didn't seem to care. Wouldn't even suggest medication.

I looked in the mirror, still crying, staring at the reflection looking back at me. No wonder she didn't care, no one ever did and I didn't blame them. I was disgusting. I deepened my stare at my own image, and cringed. Mascara stained my cheeks and my hair was matted. I looked exhausted, and I was shaking. I was a mess.

Turning and running for the stairs, I let out a massive sob. All I wanted was the feeling of cold metal splitting my skin in two. The feeling of warm crimson liquid pouring down my arms. The feeling of pure pain engulfing my arm, screaming for it to stop, just anything to distract me from my sadness, to feel something more than just this constant battle between loneliness and sadness and self hatred. Anything to forget this battle in my head, to drown out the constant screams from my soul.

As soon as I got to my room, I took myself to my book shelf and I stared at the little black box behind a pile of books. This black box was the holder of my destruction. A world of nightmares and monsters lived in my veins, a whole universe over crowded by darkness, decay and hate, all threatening to explode if I didn't release some pressure. I had to let it out. And with the contents of that box, I could.

I opened up the box and felt numb. The silver blade shimmered as I took it out. My heart beat quickened at the sight. The blade had such a strange sense of beauty to it, the kind that makes you feel safe and relaxed. I rolled my sleeves up and let out a shaky breath. I examined my arms, white and light brown scars covered my arm from the shoulder to the wrist. I moved to the bathroom and sat on the floor. The feeling of neediness overwhelmed me. But I started to push the thought away. I stopped myself. Maybe I didn't need it, maybe I was stupid and was just trying to fight a war I couldn't beat. I put the blade down. I didn't need this.

But then Summer's voice came into my head. "Go die, Taylor". It echoed and was getting louder. "Depressed freak". I don't think I can do this. "Pathetic" I started to panic. "Freak, pathetic, go die"
It was too much. I couldn't take it. I started shaking. The room was spinning "GO DIE"
"PATHETIC" "FREAK" it was coming too fast, it was screaming, I couldn't take this anymore.

Screaming, I felt the blood slip across my arm. I looked down. I hadn't even realised I'd done it. All 4 of these fresh cuts were deep. I had never done it so deep. I started panicking. What was I going to do?! It was dripping. I took a deep breath. Be calm, Taylor. Put it under the tap.
"Fuck!" I screamed as I put the wound under the freezing water. It wouldn't stop bleeding. I frantically searched for a bandage and in the end I found one. I wrapped it round my injuries and tried to steady my breathing. As I did, I heard the front door open and close. Shit. Mum was home.

I ran to my room and threw the blade under my pillow. Then, I grabbed my jacket and pulled it on over the bandages. I cleared up the blood just as mum knocked on the door of the bathroom.
"You alright in there, Taylor?" she asked.
Not trusting myself to speak, I hummed in response. "Right. Dinner will be in 10, you want some?"
"A little" I breathed.

After dinner, I went to bed. It was only 18:30, but I needed rest. My arm hurt so badly, it burned as if it was on fire at that very moment. I had to hold in sobs as I tried to fall asleep.

Only then did I realise the true meaning of pain. Pain isn't just a physical feeling when you fall over or break a bone. Pain is so much more. It's what you feel when you lose someone to death or illness. Pain is something you can see in someone's eye when they've been through something terrible. Pain is something that you feel for others, or how you feel when you are upset or angry. It's something that you go through many times as you grow older, no matter who you are. It can be felt if someone breaks your heart or if someone calls you a name. Its an emotion as well as a physical feeling and it's something that takes time to heal and time to fix.

Pain is something I had been feeling for years, and all I wanted was to be healed.

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A/N: I am super proud of how this chapter turned out. I know it's really graphic but I hope you liked it anyway. :)

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