"I wuv my daddy!"

Chapter 5 (part 2): happy birthday to me...

⚠️Warning ⚠️ swearing, self harm and depression in this chapter

2.5 hours later

My head pounded, as if a herd of elephants were dancing around in there. My dazed head lifted and my clouded eyes glanced around my room. I groaned inwardly. I was dizzy and felt as though vomit was going to push itself up and cover my bed. I swallowed the unknown lump in my throat and looked at the clock. 10:00. Great, I'm late for school.

This means my dad is going to get a call alerting him of my absence which will annoy him. Him annoyed is never good for me.

But I couldn't move. My body wouldn't let me. So I laid there, tears streaming down my face.

'Why me!' Why was I even born, I'm just a worthless piece of shit! I don't deserve anything!!! I just want this to be over!!' I thought as rain descended down my purple face. I slumped against my headboard and slowly closed my eyes. Soon enough sleep consumed me. As I entered darkness a final tear left my eyes, making its way down my cheek and landing in the crevice of my neck.

1:30 later

I woke up from my dreamless sleep, it felt as though I only just closed my eyes. I felt robbed but I can't complain I did feel a little bit rested.

Once again I sat and glanced around my room, then my gaze turned to me. My week, feeble body laid slump against the bed. I was ugly. A plaintive mewl left my mouth. 'I'm worthless'

Obviously, I decided not to go into school today; I'd get a beating later for that. But it's better than the beating id get if I did go in. My whole body was consumed in bruises, it was a wonder if I had any part of me not in a shade of the revolting and memorable purple.

Without permission tears fled my eyes; I began to choke on my cries. I gathered my body and dragged it to my bathroom. It was old but still mine. Shampoo, conditioner and body wash were aligned on the side of the bath, the shelf was filled with towels and my toothbrush and toothpaste were set on the side of the sink.

I looked up to the cabinet above the sink and began my search for my blades. Once my eyes locked onto them my hand went up to reach them. I took one of them out of the packet and held it up; it reflected the light and shone brightly.

I brought it down to my arm and began to cut. I once again chocked on my sobs. I promised I wouldn't do this but it feels like the thing to do.

I don't do it because of the pain. Yes, I relish in it but that's not why I do it. I do it because I can control it, the pain I feel is voluntary and done by me. It doesn't matter how I do it starving myself, cutting, burning it all gives the same feeling... the feeling of control. And in my messed up mind something that I can control makes me feel sane Because everything else is just out of reach, teasing from a distance, looking me in the eye and laughing... but the pain I conflict is always there, always in reach, and that makes me in control. Because nobody else can do this to me, only me. And that's what I relish in the feeling of complete and total control.

As the blade slid down my arm my mind went foggy, the crimson water trickled down my massacred body and onto the floor; I joined it shortly. Slowly letting darkness consume me. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

But sleeping seems like a better choice than staying awake.

Happy new year everyone!!! I hope you had an amazing 2017 and I hope you have an amazing 2018!!!💖💜