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i pace around my room, tears flowing from my eyes. what am i going to do? i have no one. i bet brendon hates me already. i bet mr dun is just pretending to like me.

i look down at my hand, which holds my ex best friend: a blade. i promised myself that i would never use it again, but i don't know if i can stop myself now. i swipe my tears with my opposite hand, walking to my bathroom and sitting against the shower glass.

i groan in frustration and throw the blade to the other side of the room.

tyler! just do it retard. you know you deserve it. you know how much it helps, tyler.

i sob in frustration, trying to figure out whether i should or shouldn't do it. after a few minutes of thinking, i crawl to where the blade is located and i pick it up, sitting back against the shower glass.

i pull up the sleeves of my sweater, pushing the blade down against my skin, feeling the familiar burning sensation.

"fuck up" i grit through my teeth as the blade slides smoothly across my forearm.

"just die already, nobody wants you" i cry out, making another deep horizontal cut on my bleeding arm.

after a few more cuts, i lean my head against the glass, tears pouring out of my eyes as i sob at what just happened.

i crawl to the sink cabinet, throwing the blade deep inside it and closing it again. i will never do that again. i grab a towel and clean up the mess that the cuts have made and stand up, heading to my closet.


i yawn as i hear my alarm clock blaring 'as it is: hey rachel.' i the whine in dismay as i realize what it means. school. i don't wanna face brendon. i don't wanna see kellin. i don't wanna see anyone. maybe i can just stay home? no. that'll ruin my perfect attendance. i will just have to hide away today.

i throw on a black tee and white skinny jeans, throwing on a white 'panic! at the disco' hoodie and white converse, too. i grab my phone and head out the door, purposely leaving my book bag and everything else at home. i'm gonna go for my attendance, but i'm not actually going to do anything in the classes.


i walk through the school gates, stopping in my tracks as i see that everyone is staring at me.

"hey! look! it's the pathetic man-baby"

stressed øut / joshler Where stories live. Discover now