Finally school is over, and I'm almost home. My bus is the worst place to be if your quiet or paranoid. I sit in the back of the bus where my assigned seat is and slip on my headphones. Everyone in the back of the bus are bullies, as cliche as it sounds. Like legit, bullies. They make you want to shoot yourself right there in the head just so they'd stop talking to you. All they do is cuss all the time, some of the things they say makes me want to hurl sometimes. No one sits with me in my assigned seat, because I'm the "retarded bitch". In some ways I'm glad no one sits with me, but everyone wants someone to talk to sometimes right? As i get up to leave the bus, a girl says "bye bitch", I run off the bus and run home crying. I walk inside and I hear a loud breaking noise like glass. I don't even flinch because i know its just my mom and step dad fighting, like always. I run up the stairs and lock my door as i run to my bed. There it is, sitting on my shelf, I grab it and slide it across my shoulder skin. Blood oozes out as I start to cry harder. I want to use that blade on my neck, but im too weak. Finally the blood stops and i clean myself up, pulling my warm jacket over my arm. It stings an then i start to feel exhausted, so i lay down. When I'm depressed i try to sleep it away, this time it helped.
~Authors Note~
Sorry, guys I changed the story. I kinda messed up big time. Keep reading please. Thats the only time i will change the plot. I promise.
Please do not do any of the things Bre is doing to herself. This is a recovery story not one where it promotes you to kill yourself.
