It started when it was just a gloomy day in Columbus, OH. There was a 6th grade girl who just moved here. Her name was Lola. And that is how the story begins.
I was waiting for a ride home from my mom. Unfortunately, my friends already left me so I was alone. As I waited for 30 minutes she never came. I waited another 30 minutes. Still no mom. I decided to walk home. It started raining hard. As I reached the house I pulled out my keys and unlocked the door. I walked in.
As I looked around, I turned to see an angry mother, stomping her way towards me. She screamed, lectured, and mentally abused my thoughts. It really hurt me. I tried to protest but soon realized it was a mistake and then was grounded. Sheesh, I would rather have abuse than being taken hostage with her strong hateful words. Ever since dad died she has been different to me, yet so sweet to my little brother. I was left alone and did my homework.
I remembered a little part of school, cringing at the thought of it. I was so weak. I couldn't even do 5 push ups. I started yelling inside my head. Ugly. Fat. My friends were so much better than me. I can't do anything I am so useless. Why am I living? Without second thought I started self-harming myself. I was blinded by fear only holding onto the hate of myself. I was in tears, tearing away at my skin with my short nails. My friends and family could care less anyway. Without thinking I started walking towards the window in the attic, grabbing a pocketknife on the way there. I pointed the knife at my throat ready to thrust. I thought of my life, shaking. I fell back out of the open window and stabbed myself.
Dead.
