I guess for the purpose of this story I should have a fake name. You can call me....Kat.
My name is Kat and this is my story.
"How long have you been cutting yourself? " asked in an eerily calm tone. I remember when my older sister, Rachel told my aunts at church that she was cutting. When my mom found out she screamed at her for hours. Accused her of being an attention hog and truthfully, Rachel was. I believe that some people need more attention then others. Everyone wants to be noticed, but even if she was just doing it for attention cutting is cutting and my mother should have gotten her help. Instead she hauled her of to church and made her speak to the pastor.
"Only a week and a half now" I replied in a shaky voice.
"Are you doing it to make sure you get a ride down to see your friend?" She said, voice still calm. My eyes teared up and anger filled me to the brim. I wanted to beat the shit out of her. I wanted to disappear.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Tell it Like it is
PoesíaMy story, memories, and poems. It is all unedited, sorry. A lot of it is poems. I will organize it later. For now I will put symbols by memories and my story(∆). Trigger Warning: This book talks about cutting, E.D., psych-wards, burning, mild schizo...
