Cut. Deeper. Longer. Make it bleed. Pain. Sweet pain. I had started thinking that I could keep it to only cutting on the wrist, a small piece of skin where it was possible to cover up with some bracelets. It had worked fine, in the beginning. But as things got worse, the need to cut had increased. So it spread, now covering my entire underarm in wounds. It sure helped though. And as long as it helped, what was the point in stopping? There was no point , I told myself, so I kept on doing it, now covering it up in long sleeved sweaters or arm cuffs long enough to cover it.
I had started bringing the smiley-box to school now, and for every little thing that happened to me I would lock myself in the bathroom and make some new cuts. Make myself bleed. Watch the blood on its way down my wrist and on to the floor. I needed the pain. Cutting had become an addiction.
I had the smiley-box with me at all times, always keeping it close. It was the only thing that could make me even remotely happy. It was my precious. I was Gollum. If someone had taken it, I would freak. I'm pretty sure I could have been a serious threat to the one who took my precious away. I'd bite their finger off easily, if you get the reference. There was times Smeagol came into picture making me ask myself questions like What the fuck am I doing to myself? and What have I become? I knew the answer quite well A monster, who needed pain as badly as Gollum needed the Ring. I was Gollum. The smiley-box was my precious. But mostly I let Gollum steer the show. And Gollum needed his pain. The pain was my drug.
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VeryMuchALIVE! (sing it for the hurt)
Teen FictionArwen gets bullied in school. Her thoughts of suicide grows stronger and stronger as the bullying increases. Sinking deeper and deeper into depression, nothing seems to help Arwen get out of it. Her only way out seems to be death. Music doesn't even...
