Imperfect

blood.

she was weak.
too weak to think clearly, that's what happened when you starved yourself. but that wasn't the thing that was eating her insides. she was sad having no one to confide in. all she wanted was to be skinny. however, somehow she still craved food, felt the need to eat.
and while trying to stamp out the feeling of hunger, she crushed all the emotions she had left.

they watched her skip meals.
tried to get her to eat. told her she had to gain some weight other wise she would die.
she laughed and told them they were worrying about the wrong thing.

when they told her she was getting too small she laughed.
a real genuine laugh.  she didn't care that they though she was too small, the only thing that mattered were the thoughts going through her head. for those told her the truth, always.
and now they were telling her she was almost skinny enough, she just needed to loose a few more pounds.

they found her.
collapsed in the hall way refusing to acknowledge she needed help. they were going to take her to the nurse when the begging started. she pleaded with them to leave, let her handle her own life.
and with heavy hearts they left not allowing themselves to look back.

once she got home she felt so empty inside.
her eyes darted around her foyer trying to find a way to fill the void. she racked her brain thinking of ways to feel something, anything. one idea popped up multiple time, she attempted to push it down. she had promised herself that she would never do that. however her legs still took her up the stairs and to the bathroom, her fingers fumbled with the lock, then frantically grabbed the blade. she felt powerful when she jerked her arm to the right and a warm sticky liquid started to pour from her veins.
the blood made her feel happy, content, in control. the blood made her feel, something she hadn't been able to do in a long time.

they noticed the slashes on her wrists.
saw what she was doing to herself. cried while dialing the phone, calling up her parents. she was sick and this was the only way they knew to help her. even if it hurt everyone else.
including her parents who were sobbing on the other line.

she didn't have any friends. tattle tales didn't deserve her anyway
the only thing she could confide in was her razor.
her parents were pure evil.
they wanted to lock her up to "get treatment"
why would she need treatment? there was nothing wrong with her.
she distanced herself from everyone in her life.
considering them  an obstacle that would only get in her way, blocking her path to salvation.

AN: unedited but I needed to share considering i just relapsed.