So I wasn't really going to update it. But, people were sending me messages asking me for it. So... here it is. Re-uploaded, and it's also going to be changed a whole heap. But, I would just like to say to everybody- that if I do find it being plagiarized then I won't upload it again. I think I will just delete it. Thank you all for understanding my decision to take it down at the time.

I will be writing parts that was never in this story. Because when I was writing this, I only really told half the truth- because I didn't want to freak any of my readers out badly. But now, I think it should just be up. And I'm extremely sorry if it disturbs you. Because, the themes in this story is true, it does happen to a lot of people.

Brooke.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Just knowing that you're hated seems to be enough, but with the torment added to it, it's pure hell. Each and every day that I walk into that plain, bitter purgatory that they call a school I face the pushing and the abuse that comes out of their mouth.

They watch with a smirk on their faces as I look down, just wishing this hell would be over. Strangely enough they say that the easiest part of your life is meant to be the time you endure at school, it's meant to be fun exciting and you're supposed to be carefree and joyous. You're not supposed to go home with bruises all over your body, you're not supposed to go home feeling sad and angry just wanting to sit in the corner of your room with nothing but frigid darkness surrounding you, dragging the scissors across your leg. But most of all you're not supposed to go home wishing your life was different.

Every day I walk into the house, my mom looks over her shoulder a questioning look on her face along with a smile that says "How was your day honey?"

But one day, I came home with tears running down my face and she saw it for herself. I thought that if I faced it, and held it all in that I would get better, but I never did. The more I bottled it up the more anger and rage I held for the humanity of this cruel world. "My baby" My mom mumbled as I came home, a bruise on my cheek. She came up to me, walking slowly her hand out as she caressed my cheek with a sad expression on her face. "Baby, why do you have all these bruises?" she wondered, looking at me, tears were welling up. She hated seeing me so upset and battered. "What happened" She murmured in my ear softly, rubbing my back as she rocked the both of us back and forth while the both of us stood up. But as she asked me what happened, the tears in my eyes couldn't be unnoticed, and it was there, noticeable. "I can't go back there. I won't go back there." I sobbed, my arm's wrapping around her tightly. "Please mom. Don't make me go back there" and as she looked into my eye's she saw past the crazy charade, the mask that I would hide behind. Each and every afternoon I would come home to my mom and younger siblings, a fake smile on my face so I could at least try and convince to them that I was happy. But it was all just a crazy mask.

People often want to know what goes through your head when you do something as "Stupid" as dragging that knife, or that razor or those scissors across your arm. People often know what it's like- so I'm going to tell you.

In my case, those words just- they just kept cascading through my head, torturing me and breaking my soul. They kept picking me apart until all I could think about was what was wrong with me. My hair, my weight, my ugliness my pale white skin colour, my personality- every single part of me is disgusting. When I picked up that razor, and held it to my wrist- I was blank. I just stared and watched as I drew it to the front and back of my wrist. I watched as the blood collect and flowed as a tiny rivulet of crimson. The pain laced my arm and the panic set in as I rushed to grab toilet paper and push it onto the cut- it was an instant release, and for that tiny moment of time- I forgot. I forgot everything. I forgot the reason why I was doing this, I forgot the words, I forgot my surroundings. All I could focus on was watching that blood seep.

As much as it helped me- it ruined me.