Ch. 1// Amy

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-How do you run away from things that are in your head?-

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Amy:




The metal pressing on the young girl's skin felt revielable and also sensoble. The pale skin shivered under the sharp obstacle, but the arm remained still. As it slide through it, all Amy did was hiss in pain but also grab the knife harder. When blood formed on the just-formed-cut, it only encouraged for her to continue. This was not first time of self-harming, so she had used to it. Bravely she watched the scars on her other arm, biting her lip so hard it bleeded also.

I have to do this.

Finally she finished her work by loud hiss added with pant, her whole body cringing by the action. The pain felt almost like enternal stinging and burning, but Amy swallowed it. All the pain the knife had put her to suffer, but she had caused it by herself. She needed somekind of comfort.. comfort to cool her pain down.

Lastly; she raised her arm up to lick most of the blood away.

"Amy! Dinner's ready!"

The loud yell from downstairs sure informed to the self-harming girl that there was food for her. She never even bothered to look towards her door. Amy's tired legs rolled on the comfy bed, her entire body turning away from the door where she could hear her siblings laughs and arguing. Not wanting to eat, or feeling hungry.

"Mom! Dana took my teddy bear!" Amy groaned, hearing how loudly they really yelled. Being in a dark room sure cooled her down by it's dark and quietness, but the banging sisters interrupted that.

Every. Single. Day.

"Izabelle Scarlet Iris! Don't make me to get your Dad!" Amy's Mother yelled then, even to this day, to this very day Amy never kept 'Daniel' their step-Father as any Father to her. Only a brother figure, if that's even the case. It made Amy to become angry whenever her Mother Julia would yell that Daniel was their Dad. Not in the whole world if it was up to her.

Dad...

Amy squeezed the pillow in her arms so tight, that her whole day's strenght seemed to end there. Even the idea of her Father made her feel even worser than she was. And now, this month had been the most difficult one. One year, a full one year it has been since her Dad died, same as her best friend Praxina also, who committed suicide on that very specific day. "Karma", Amy says, is the reason her life must be so sorrowful. Always when she feels like doing the right thing or feels happy and her life seems enjoyable.. always it causes some pain back at her. Or as she thought it was, it was two weeks earlier her birthday -on that year- as she was having so much fun, that she didn't know what time it was. Then, after two weeks...

Amy shook her head, painfully raising her gaze up. She stared now at a small brown framed picture just laying on her bed-table, the person standing on it smiling. It was her Father. His light and thick brown hair had been furred by Amy herself who was climbing on his back. He was wearing his favorite Football-69 blue shirt, same as his brown shorts, but the boots were forced on him by Amy's Mother. Amy remembered that summer, it was also one of her happy times as her Dad had just got work from truck-orgenization, he was in love with it and celebrated it. They together, celebrated it.

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