Despondent | (Completed but editing)

Chapter 1.

It's all going to be okay, I promise.

My mothers once kind words repeat in my head as I walk through the door of my new flat. I don't make much of an effort looking around, I already havewhen we viewed it. My feet drag me into the bedroom with my suitcase in hand, unpacking my clothes into the black drawers. The messiness of my first attempt frustrates me so I take each item out, folding it perfectly before returning them to their original position. Rain hits hard against the large windows and the sound instantly relaxes me. After completing my first and last chore, I kick my shoes off and fall back onto the bed.

College starts tomorrow, I'm reminded by the voice in my head.

Thoughts race through my head about how bad the next day could go. Either everyone will like me, or hate me. The latter would make more sense. I push my earphones into my ears and play Bring me the Horizon loudly to distract me from my thoughts. I check my Facebook and reply to the very few messages I have before my phone screen goes black and the music stops playing. I put my phone on charge and lay back on the bed, listening to the rain and being left alone with my own thoughts. My eyes flutter shut and I try to think of happy things, but just as always, it fails. I shift and climb underneath the warm, silky sheets, and despite being fully clothed I manage to get comfortable.

My phone buzzes letting me know it's back on, but I ignore it and shut my eyes, trying to fall asleep even though it's only little after 8 in the evening and I haven't eaten.

'"You fucking worthless piece of shit. You are worth absolutely nothing to me or this family, you pretend to have depression to get attention from your friends, but do you know what Lana? They all chat shit about you. I've heard it. You mean nothing to no one you believe you do in your life. For the last 16 years we've all been hoping you'd just cut the slightest bit deeper and do us all a favour," my mother says and I run upstairs and lock myself in my room.

I slide down the door and bury my head in my knees. The words she said are repeated in my head over and over and I don't know what do. I'm 4 months clean and don't want to resort to cutting again. But I look under my dresser next to me and see the blade shining. My hand reaches...

I wake up covered in sweat. Even fucking sleeping doesn't help with these thoughts that I'm constantly cursed with. Nothing I do gets rid of them, and I have no one to turn to. For half of my 16 years of living I've felt the same way, and my heart is set on the fact that I'll never feel any different.