Lacy || Malachi Barton

011

thankfully yesterday went by fast and now it was the next day. i got up and quickly showered before putting on a cherry red tight fit shirt paired with some miss me jeans. i grabbed my backpack and started heading out.

i got in my car and drove to school where i parked in my usual spot snd started walking inside.

once i did i started walking to my first period. i was dreading it considering i had malachi in there. while walking to my class i heard a voice speak up.

i kept walking until i heard the voice say my name.

"wow sunnee i love your confidence to wear that shirt, you might want to lay off the food though youre looking a bit fat." i turned around to look at stacy in shock when she said that to me as she grabbed her stomach squeezing it as if mocking me while her friends started laughing.

"yeah you're not gonna attract anyone with all those rolls." her friend then spoke up adding to the fuel.

i turned around in shock as to what they said as my eyes started to tear up.

"don't take it to heart honey, were just trying to look out for you thats all." stacy said again shrugging her shoulders while smiling, that smile, the smile that holds evil.

i turned back around not wanting to make a scene as her words lingered in my head. i wasn't even paying attention to what was around me as i went inside the girls bathroom.

i locked my self in a stall sitting down on the toilet. grabbing my sweater in a sense of comfort as i desperately try to clear my mind but to no avail i fail. i can feel my eyes tearing up as my vision gets blurred.

Sitting alone in the bathroom stall, the weight of the hurtful words crushes me, tears welling up in my eyes. The echo of "fat" bounces around in my mind, each repetition like a knife twisting deeper into my already fragile self-esteem.

My hands tremble as I reach for my phone, seeking some sort of distraction, some escape from the pain. Fumbling with the case, I retrieve the blade hidden inside, my last resort to numb the emotional agony coursing through me.

With shaking hands, I press the blade against my skin, the physical pain offering a fleeting reprieve from the torment within.

Each cut becomes a silent plea for relief, for acceptance, for a moment of respite from the relentless battle raging inside me.

As the blade slices through my skin, a wave of relief washes over me, momentarily drowning out the chaos in my mind. The physical pain serves as a temporary escape, a brief respite from the suffocating weight of my emotions.

With each cut, I feel a semblance of control, a fleeting sense of calm amidst the storm raging within. But as the rush of relief fades, guilt begins to creep in, twisting knots in my stomach.

I know deep down that harming myself isn't the answer, that it only perpetuates the cycle of pain. Yet, in this moment of weakness, it's the only coping mechanism I can grasp onto, a desperate attempt to silence the demons clawing at my sanity.

as i keep gliding the blood covered blade across my skin, my arm drowning in blood the more i slice it, the feeling of relief and the feeling of guilt washes over me as i look down at my arm revealing to myself what i did.

With trembling hands, I carefully clean the blood from my arm, each wipe a stark reminder of the damage I've inflicted upon myself. I wrap a large bandage around the wound, hoping to conceal the evidence of my pain.

As the bell rings, signaling the end of my solitude, I gather my belongings and make my way to class. In the bustling hallways, every glance feels like a piercing judgment, amplifying my self-consciousness.