April pov
In the time I've been sitting here I have thought of many things. Especially my parents and what happened to them, how I miss them.
It all started on our 17th birthday, my parents were in the car driving me and Adam to the pet store. We were going to get a dog for both of us to take with on places. As we were driving a drunk driver was coming down the wrong side of the rode. We didn't realize it before it was too late, he hit us dead on.
The windshield shattered and the glass flying into my parents and some hitting me. My mom wasn't wearing her seatbelt and she flew straight out the front. My dad's airbag failed so he crashed into the front of the car his head started to bleed. Adam also got launched forward and hit the seat in front of him knocking him out. I was fast enough to put my hands on the top of my head, I broke them in the process. I could barely see but I had still managed to call 911.
Adam woke up in the hospital only a day later, he for some reason blamed me for the crash. My dad slipped into a coma only to never wake up. They had to pull the plug on him because he was unconscious for more than two months. My mom was killed on impact and the drunk driver, well guess what he died well sorta from the crash. Yes he was drunk but while driving he had a heart attack that killed him as soon as he hit us.
The crash left me and Adam orphans. We didn't want to go to an orphanage and Adam was making off YouTube to support himself. I also had my singing which had just picked up right before that. They said as long as we don't get in trouble that year we wouldn't have to go. So we were as good as it gets, but I had to live with Adam. I hated it he beat me everyday, at home and at school.
Now that I think of it Adam is the reason I'm depressed. If I kill myself then I will get to see my parents again. No stop April don't think like that. I need a way to get rid of stress. Maybe just one cut I mean it's only one it's not like it will turn to 300 right.
I imagined a razor blade and there it appeared. I did one little cut on my arm it stung but felt good. I did another, and another, and another. Until I realized what I was doing, I dropped the razor and ran as fast as I could to get away from that thought. It wouldn't get to me it wasn't my fault. Right, I didn't kill my parents, it wasn't my fault.
I looked down on my arm I didn't make lines I spelled out something. In my arm was engraved
MISTAKE