My Fucking Mess Of A Life

Mask

I wasn't expecting it. I hadn't done anything wrong, at least I didn't think I did. All I said was "I'm so different from my sisters" and before I could say anything else, he blew up. He said that I should shut up and learn to keep quiet. My mom and sister sat there for a second before they continued to talk. I just sat there, my mouth hanging open in shock for three full minutes. He had gone back to reading his paper. I wasn't even angry or sad or upset that he had yelled at me. I was just in shock as to why. Usually I do something or he at least explains why he's upset. Not this time. My mom and sister both saw me and just ignored it, not because they didn't care but because they didn't want it to go any further. Like that ever works. He looked back up at me finally and I could see he was about to say something. Before he could, I said "I just want to know what I did wrong." His response: "Fine, I'll tell you. I know you're different from your sisters, you don't need to say it. You've made my life a living hell for the past ten years because you're different. Don't talk about it. Stop rubbing it in. It puts me through hell. You don't need to brag. Just shut up." I was even more shocked than before. My mother started saying something, but I just got up from the table and went upstairs calmly. I wasn't crying and I wasn't mad. I sat on my bed and just stared at nothing. I could hear him screaming downstairs and my mom arguing back. It was all just background noise, though. It was drowned out by the thoughts in my head. On the outside I looked perfectly calm. On the inside I was a hurricane of thoughts, feelings and words. I wanted it to stop. I couldn't think of anything to do through the chaos that was my mind. Only one thing came to me. One idea of how to clear everything away. I grabbed onto it and held tightly. It may not have been the best solution but it was all I had. I stood up and grabbed one of the many exacto blades I had on my window sill. I didn't bother to hide them. No one came into my room, and if they did, I told them it was for my art project.  I walked to the bathroom and locked the door. I stared at the girl in the mirror. She didn't look like person. She looked like mask. No emotion anywhere. I took off my cover up and held the blade up to my left shoulder, as I'm right handed. There were three faded lines there. All done with a pocket knife. That was the most of ever done. Until now. I pressed the blade down and slowly began dragging it across my skin. I had to stop quickly as the pain was too much. I thought for a second and decided to try something else. I held the blade against my skin again, but instead of dragging it slowly, I quickly whipped it across my skin. It didn't hurt that much and when I looked down, I saw it. Blood. Little beads of blood had started forming. It wasn't as deep as the other ones but it was more efficient and allowed for more cuts to be made before I had to stop from the pain becoming to much. I repeated the process until there was about an inch of lines on my shoulder. I couldn't go any lower as I still wanted to wear short sleeves. I simply switched to a new row and soon I had another row similar to the first. I just stared at the blood coming out of the cuts on my skin. I gave a small smile without even thinking. I wiped the blade off, put back on my cover up, and put the blade back in my room. I went down stairs and finished eating my lunch in the kitchen instead of at the table. I was quite proud of myself for not crying. Maybe I was getting better at blocking the emotions out. Or at just not letting them show through. Either way, I could only hope that I would get as lucky next time as I did now. And unfortunately, I knew for a fact, there would be a next time. There was always a next time.

Written: 3/27/17
Story date: 3/25/17

A/n: As always, non-fiction, my own personal experiences, I love wattpad, any negative comments I can't stop you but please don't, any grammatical errors comment and I'll try to fix, blah blah blah, my life sucks. Usually the  a/n's are more well written and stuff but I don't really care right now. If at some point I decide to care and come back and fix it, then it'll happen. For now, deal with it. Oh and thanks for reading.