Addition that's what this is. A cold, cruel, and painful addiction. Yet its the only thing that's keeping me here on Earthland, and not with my Mother in the afterlife. The pain reminds me that I still live, though I have thought about death, time and time again.
This addiction has only recently started, yet I already fear my friends discovery of it. Well if I had friends that is, all I seem to have anymore is my maids and butlers in my Father's house. Not my house but his, this may be the house I'm living in but it would never be home.
To me home is anywhere, anywhere but this town. This town Magnolia, with to many memories, most happy but that's what makes this worse. The happy memories that got replaced fast by ones of abuse of mental and physical. Family and Friends inflected that abuse.
It started as a kid I guess, my Mother taught my to be a Lady and giving up or harming of any sort is weakness. She made me promise that I would be a strong Lady as I grew of age. Sadly that promise was broken, broken recently. At least part of the promise is broken, though I broken one I wished to hold up the other of never giving up.
This hell I live in started at the age of 7, I was surrounded by friends, they made me happy and I would smile and laugh almost everyday. Now its seems impossible to even add emotion to my face. Though then it was easy, simple really, though that changed fast as my Mother have gotten a disease and died not but a year later.
Turning to my friends for support after her death, I hoped they would help. It did for a little bit. Til the kidnapped girl came back, Lisanna I think was her name. She was really nice and I love the way she could make anyone smile with just one of hers. My friends love it too, so much they left me behind. I didn't care at first, I mean she was kidnapped and they were told she died. I didn't know her before the kidnapping, but everyone cared for her.
After a while I was left completely behind. Forgotten. The addiction would normally start here, but at 9 I held on wishing it would get better. It never did. In stead as I aged up and went though the years the only notice I got from my old friends was verbal abuse, and sometimes physical.
My house used to hold memories of a smiling Mother and Father. I used to love going home after school, it was peaceful. Though those memories disappeared and were soon replaced with fear of going home after school.
The house smells of alcohol, no matter how hard the maids try to rid of it. Father drinks enough in a day to hold a bar up for weeks. Its disgusting really. The alcohol messes up my Father's brain, so bad he often beats me, claiming that I'm downfall of my family and I bring nothing but pain where I go. He said it so often I believe it.
After 10 years without my mother, I hid in my room. I keep blades and rope under a floor broad in my room. I used to be proud to say I never used them. I wanted them there for the just the comforting thought that they were there for me. Really they are the only things there for me anymore.
Words from my old best friend Natsu Dragneel, brought me home in a sobbing mess. Escaping my Father that night was easy as he wasn't home yet, I ran to my room. I cried in my soft bed with his word echoing in my ears. 'Nobody wants a weakling like you around Heartphilia'. It was enough to push myself off my bed and toward the blades.
The blades are now my only escape. Most sees it a want to die, but instead to me its a way to remind me to live. The blade kisses my skin leaving a trail of red that drops to the floor, making the stench of blood settle in my room. Another scent that the maids can't rid of.
To me the blades are an addiction, I can't seem to rid of it, I really don't want too.
I have recently started cutting myself. Its something I despise, but yet I do it. I wish anyone who cuts to get over it. ~Jayyskat