Why is life a bitch

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I stand there in front of the mirror looking down at my arms. "Why do I do it?" I thought to my self. "Why am I such a loser." I pull down my sleeves and walk over to the bathroom. I pull up my sleeves again, holding my razor in my other hand. I look down at my arms then back at my reflection. I do it again I would m end my life. Should I end my life? Without second guessing, I go for my arm.

As I'm about to cut my arm my abusive father comes in. "Emma! What the hell are you doing!" He came over and took my blade. He threw it at the wall which rebounded and it ended up hitting my leg. "What the hell dad! Look what you've done!" He just yelled at me saying " I've done nothing you ugly useless whore!"

Then he slapped me across the face. He hit me a little more, bruising me. I fell to the floor and he left the room. "You ugly bitch!" I just layed there crying as I heard him beating my mom who is a drug addict. I eventually fell asleep crying there on the bathroom rug.

Life's A Bitch So Why Live - An Adam Gontier Story Where stories live. Discover now