The young girl sat there, quiet, happy to be away from the fears of torment when she stepped onto that ugly growling school bus. "If I could just, break the skin, or imprint the blade onto it." the girl whispers, sitting in that bathroom, her skinny jeans retaining little warmth, the hp computer in front of her lit the half-bath brightly, the song if I die young playing slowly, her tears streaming down her cheeks as she cried, yet no noise erupted from her small pink lips. "I'm weak, pitiful a-a a wasted soul, a simple girl, weak and alone, in a place that didn't want her there, if she could just cut the wrists and relieve the tension." The brown-haired girl whimpered as the knife cut her wrist slightly. "I deserve this, this is my punishment for trying to fit into a world that is just too crowded for me." she whispered again, her country slang strong and noble. The girl sat there, her depression pills never worked, cherry happy songs made her nauseated. Call her emo, a freak, a piece of morbid flesh, but this was happening, in the small yellow house on the hill, at 12:00 A.M. to a girl that was 12years old, 150 pounds, 4"11'. To most you would look at her happy smile and imagine she was happy and knew nothing of the worlds cruelty, you couldn't be more wrong, this young girl had keen enough sight to see through the clouds that adults tried to use to make the world fuzzy and seem soft. She saw the world in its sharp, jagged, cold ways, she often wished to be blind, unable to see. "Damn my soul to hell, I can't even administer the antidote to my uselessness, I'm pathetic, I should just find a small gun, one bullet, the tip of the barrel to my head, bang..." She whispered again, a grim smile appeared on her lips, the rose colored cheeks appeared purple in the blue light."C-Cheyenne, where are you, I got up to get some water but you were not in the chair?" That was her crush, Arthur Kirkland."Can you leave me alone, I'm on...YouTube." The girl winced as he walked in, her wrist dripping blood onto the bare concrete floor."A-Arthur, I got scratched by the cat, he was startled and I-.""Cheyenne, damn it, you were cutting, weren't you!?" He asked the girl, he was worried for her, the only girl that he was attracted too, cutting from depression."Arthur...yea, I-I was cutting...again, I'm sorry."
this is for all the people that feel like shit, all that think you are useless, well I'm here to prove you wrong...YOU ARE ONE OF A KIND, A PRUSSIA OF THIS TIME, YOU NEED TO GET UP, LOOK IN THE MIRROR AND SAY "I'll be damned to hell to believe all the liars and the thieves, I am me, I am a Prussia, too damn awesome to flake away just because someone over threw my land!" I am the girl depicted in the story, I have been on the brink of cutting, I have been soo close the blade bruised and rubbed the skin raw. But...what stopped me was a single friend, not England from hetalia, or some guy, It was my soul-sister, my German pasta, she would pull me into the bathroom and let me cry, then she and I would assess the problem. If you think you don't have your German pasta, think deep. Your German pasta puts up with all your shit, laughs at you when you fail a test, cries when you start singing a happy dopey song like the barney song. Your German pasta is your 2p! find em and let em know that they are your bad and good side, they are your madness when you are calm, they are your other half, not lover other half but your opposite friend.