Sunsets and pills. | ⚠️TW⚠️read desc

Chapter one

TW: mentions of abuse, alcohol abuse, self harm and suicide

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I once thought my life would be long and fulfilling.
I thought I'd be happy, find true love, real friends, people who cared.

But then my mother left. I was eight. And my dad lost it. He turned into everything I wished he wouldn't. He started drinking. And when he drank too much, he'd speak the truth. He promised he would never say the things hes said.

I've been scared. He hates me. He hates himself. He hates everyone, everything.

So here I am. On my bathroom floor. My best friend having abandoned me, my father having told me I'm useless. I have the blade in my hand.

Just two slits.

It's not as if I haven't cut myself before. But this time will be the last.

I close my eyes as I bring the sharp, cold blade to my wrist. I feel the metal graze my skin as I take a deep breath.

And I push it into the main blood stream. (a/n is that what it's called😭😭)
As I feel the blade cut through my skin, further than I've ever cut before, I think back at my life.

My mothers laugh. My father's eyes when he looked at her. Once, I wished I'd have someone look at me the way they looked at each other.

I bring the blade off my right wrist and put it in my right hand. I put it against my left wrist. Noise around me seems muffled. My father is banging on the door. He's screaming. I cant tell what he's saying but I hear the pain in his voice. He knows what I'm doing.

I feel a spike of regret in my stomach. But it's too late. The blade is already too far in my skin. It's hit the perfect spot. The pain shoots up my arm and down my fingers. I drop the blade to the ground. It hits the ground with a soft clatter, and my father's screams stop.

I drop down on my knees. I'm shaking. I feel the blood dripping down my hands. I faintly hear a thudding of footsteps. A key in the lock. The door slides open, as I fall to the ground. My ears are ringing. Everything hurts.

My head is lifted off the ground and onto something soft. I open my eyes to look at my fathers face. He's on the phone. Probably calling 911. I smile weakly.

"Dad..."
"Angel, please don't leave me, please don't leave me, please." he sobs.
"I'm sorry."