Chapter 47: Is Not Important

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A/N- Chapter 46 and 47 we're posted at the same time make sure you didn't skip one <3
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Athena's pov

Looking at the blade in front of me I fight the temptation to pick it up and feel something. When I bleed it reminds me that I am alive. It gives me a feeling of certainty that even though I feel numb, I am still alive.

I am still living

Marco went to the warehouse leaving me alone in the house. I don't know where Dante went nor do I even care at this point. I wonder if I kill myself would anyone notice. Would they even look for me If I was gone? Would they care if I didn't appear anymore?

Would Marco only find me because he needed to use the bathroom? Would the smell of my rotting body be too much for them to handle?

No one would care if anything happened to me. I'm not good enough to be cared about. Sometimes I wish my parents were alive. They cared about me through it all.

They'd be disappointed in me right now

They wouldn't want me to be here contemplating death; they'd want me to get the help I need. I can't cry out for help anymore. I've tried and I've asked but nothing came off it.

My mental health is not important

It never has been important, it never will be. I don't know why I would ever think that it would be important. The balde calls my name pleading for me to take it in my hand. It's begging me to run it along my skin having the blood dripping down my arms onto the floor.

My stomach rumbling with hunger. I've barely had anything to eat in the past 3 days. It's okay though the human body can last 8 to 21 days without food and water and up to two months if there's access to an adequate water intake. It's only been 3 days, what's 3 more? It won't harm me and if it does it's making my clock run out faster.

That's always been the goal.

Death is not ugly but it can be beautiful. It can give new opportunities for the person left behind to find a new chapter. The person continues to live with the memories that will last a lifetime not the one bad memory of death.

There will always be a before, during and after the only thing we don't know is where we are and where we stand. We will always be someone's before, someone's during and someone's after. The only problem is we don't know whose we will be.

The blade taunts me along with the white powder lined up already. Mom would be so mad at me. Dad would be disappointed. I tried so hard to get clean and I did but now I'm right back to where it started.

I'm so sorry mom

I'm so sorry dad

I have to. I don't know how else to keep going.

I grab the blade running it along my skin going deeper and deeper. The harder it presses on my skin the more I feel something. I finally get to feel something. It's pain but pain I caused not pain that anyone else has made me feel. Blood drips down my arms, my skin cut open, bleeding the blood that's supposed to stay in my body.

Blood soaks the floor. I hold one side on my nose inhaling the white powder in my nose. My eyes roll to the back of my head ecstasy follows through my body loving the feeling of pain that I'm giving myself. I'd rather give myself pain than receive it.

I just want to feel again

Even if it's just for a second I just want to feel again

Tears stream down my face. I bring the blade back to my arms wanting to cut it so deep that no one will be able to save me. The bathroom door slams open Dante looks at me throwing the balde to the other side of the bathroom. I go to try and get it but he grabs my hands stopping me from moving. I let out loud sobs and he makes me sit on the floor with him. He still holds my hands, not letting me move.

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