The Inner Hate Is what Hurts The Most.

The Plot Thickens

There I lay, a blade intertwined in my fingers, tears steaming down my face. I didn't have a clue of what was happening that day. I had been raped, whipped, smacked, and beat. I just wanted to end it all as I let the blade touch my skin, the cold metal making me shiver. I inhaled heavily and let the blade jab into my wrist, dragging it up to where my forearm ends, watching as the blood dripped down, a puddle beginning to form on the floor. I let out soft cries and whimpers, soon regaining the strength to hide the blade, put on a sweater, and cry to myself as I heard my little brother walk in. "Brother sad.." He murmured, waddling over to me and sitting in my lap. "N-no Finley. I'm quite alright. Let's make you lunch, yeah?" I say as I hold back my cries, standing up and kissing the top of my brothers head.

As we made our way downstairs, our mum barged into the house, drunk off her shit. I hid my brother behind my legs, reassuring him that it would be okay. Little did I know it wasn't going to be okay. My mum, intoxicated, shuffled over to me and pushed me out of the way. "Y-ou Little bitch!! How d-are you tell the school I hit you!!" She scolded, tears beginning to swell in my eyes. I looked at her for a moment, then I put my attention to my little brother. "Mummy. Brother did nothin' wrong. If you hurt him. I swea' on fathers grave. I will hurt you in many unspeakable ways. Got it?" My little brother shoved a hand on his hip, filling the room with silence. My mother's jaw had dropped, as if she had heavy weights in her mouth. I ran over and grabbed my brothers arm, dragging him up to my room.

I sit him on my bed and begin to pace the room, the cut on my arm beginning to sting. "Finley what the bloody hell!! You don't know how much trouble I'm going to be in!! Why?!" I shout at him, tears running down my face. He just scoffed and made his way out of the room. I ran to my bathroom and grabbed my blade, rolling up my sleeve and slicing into my skin, this cut was a bit deep, causing it to bleed horribly. I panicked and grabbed the peroxide, dumbing it onto the cut, nearly screaming as I did. "Fuck...this is painful.." I cry to myself, collapsing to the floor and laying down. The blood was dripping off my arm and to the floor, drip drip drip, is all that could be heard from my bathroom, a pool of blood forming on the ground.

Before I knew it I was asleep, hoping that I wouldn't wake up. To my misfortune, I woke up four hours later, still in my locked bathroom with a large pool of my blood surrounding me. I stayed curled up, my head pounding and my heart racing, wondering why god kept me alive, wondering why he thought I was important. I sigh at that thought and begin to cry, trying not to think of the burning in my wrist, just wanting to be dead already. I start to slowly stand up, my dignity going with my cries.

Hours had passed, my mother was screaming, my brother was crying, and I was sitting in my room trying to comprehend the rough day. I decided to lie down in bed and try to sleep. I let my eyes flutter shut as I drift into a deep sleep.

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Well this is part one. And it's probably really short and shitty. But enjoy.