The personal diary of a sufferer

Let's start with the end.

She tried to run, but always hit a wall. Not made of brick, or cement.
But of judgment and heartbreak.
Cuts on her thighs and suicide on her mind. Their was only one thing that she so desired. The sweet release of her broken soul through the old and new scars that stained her body.
Nobody really understood how dark it was, trapped all alone.
A beautiful mind, drowning in pitiful sorrows. Deep, dark, brown windows that reflected her soul.

People saw
But they couldn't really see
People heard
But they never really listened
They saw her smile
But never her bags

Hope deflated from her, like when the sun sets and the moon is all you can see. Minutes seemed like hours, hours seemed like days, and the days.. Seemed like years.
Her soul, aged.
More experience was developed in her, than

Anyone else in her class.
Anyone else in her school.
Anyone of her friends.

It continued to age, she grew older and older in her personality and actions.
It protected her for the longest time. Telling her everything would be okay. Until one day her inner peace was old and gray. It wasn't strong like it used to be. It was beaten and weary.
She looked at the knife and felt her life, collapse inside of her. A fiery passion engulfed itself and took over. Delicate fingers wrapped around a cold black handle. The sharp silver blade, grazed her skin.
She pushed, harder and harder. Sawing back and fourth.
Until it hurt to much to continue.
Dull knifes where all that laid around the house, because everyone knew that the blood stains on them where hers.
She turned the combo lock, trying to free the loaded, cold pistol that laid in the safe. She tugged and tugged until it opened with a click. The same delicate fingers that had been hers only a few months ago, where rough and abused.
Life had hit her in the face like a sucker punch, her breath had been taken right out of her lungs. She clicked the safety, and stared into the barrel. Slowly raising it into her mouth, she made it go to the back of her throat.
This was it. This was the end of a miserable and wasted life. She put her hand on the trigger.. And started crying.
The gun was thrown back into the safe, and the girl ran into her room. Gripping her heart and crying out to God. WHY ME. WHY DID YOU DO THIS. I NEVER DESERVED THIS. Her head, thrown into her pillows sobbed and screamed with the pain that was inside of her. A hole was ripped through her heart, it was hard to breath. When she finally calmed down, she just looked at the ceiling. It was her only safe haven. Filled with thoughts, she just stared at the popcorn ceilings features. Running her fingers against the wall, she sighed and signed into Instagram. Maybe someone would see that she wasn't okay. Her eyes where dark in every picture, and her smile never went past her mouth. With a sigh, she shut off her phone and laid in a ball, holding herself.
She felt completely and utterly, alone.