Ray's pov:
I constantly tried to help people, I never wanted help. Till recently, I've been feeling down about everything. Every. Little. Thing. Ticked me off. I was pissed off with 90% of my family, my own mother didn't want me. She only needed me for her fix and money. I was basically a resource for her.
I've been only wanting to sleep the days away. I've also been feeling suicidal. I've been self harming, having thoughts. But I feel like I'm wearing a mask, of plastic and fake. I isolate myself, cry every night wondering when will this nightmare end?!. It's not like I can die- I thought to myself. I ended up having tears in my eyes.
I hated life. I was already surviving with all these thoughts, I didn't even eat as it was, I never drank water. I knew what it could do for a person. But in my families eyes I was a lost soul the cursed/fucked up child. I was the black sheep. All because of my mother.
My teacher looked at me, "what's wrong?, Amanda?" He pondered, Fuck I thought, "it's Ray.. not Amanda" I mumbled. "Sure whatever, what's wrong?" He asked. "I'm fine.." I muttered, "no you're not just get up and tell me what's wrong you attention seek-" he complained. "Don't tell me, what I feel and when and what I am, you know jack shit of my past!" I shouted as I ran out of the class.
I was inside of the school bathroom hyperventilating, "just one more time, then it'll stop! Haha.." I kept whispering to myself as I pulled my blade out of my pocket. I put it against my legs and arms and started cutting. I was like paper, most people called me paper, cause I cut easily.
Blood started to drip all over. "Fuck-" I whimpered. Someone walked into the bathroom, "you okay?-" she called out. "No, I'm not! Go away!" I screamed.