This short story is based off of my life. Names have been changed and will remain unknown. This phase of my life is what I like to call "Metamorphosis". Before I begin with how it all started, please note I am not doing this for attention or sympathy. That's the last thing I'm looking for when it comes to writing this. Thank you.

OCTOBER 2012

I'd close my bedroom door and turn off the lights. Lay in silence and darkness for hours, days, and what seemed like weeks. This feeling was strange but not new. A novice throb that would soon become the break of my free will. The constant bugging of being told what not to do, and what I was. Looking in the mirror was a shameful thing to do. The demon that commented on everything I did had just been born. I had just started middle school and thought life would be great from here on out. What I did not know was that the next 4 years would cause me to self-destruct.

MAY 2013

I'm twelve now. Life had not gotten any better for me. I'd go to school and hate it. I had been casted out by my friends and labeled the "outcast". Back home, things were flipping upside down. Parents began constantly fighting and my grades were slipping. No matter what I seemed to do, how nice I tried to be, or what I attempted to change… It was always firing back at me. I began thinking, "If I never existed, everyone would be happier".

SEPTEMBER 2013

Seventh grade is what I will call the worst of it all. Every morning when I woke up,

I felt like I could accomplish something. A feeling of true beauty risen inside of me. But that faded by the end of the day. When I entered the school building, my confidence automatically dropped. I had only one friend, Aubrey. We've been friends since the second grade. The fighting was a new thing, but lasted only for a day or two. My parents still fought, but harder. It was an everyday thing. I had drilled into my mind, "This is normal. Parents fight everyday".

DECEMBER 2013

I found myself crying more frequently, yet I did not know why. Dark thoughts and feelings reappearing in my mind. I'm thirteen now. Being a "teenager" felt great but only for a short amount of time. This is when the verbal abuse began. "Slut, Fat, Bitch" were my nicknames. The mirror was an enemy. The only way that I knew to deal with the abuse was to eat. Eat, eat, eat, and eat until I was happy, or not crying anymore.

AUGUST 2014

I wanted it all to end. I was becoming a bully to myself. I'll never forget the first time I thought of suicide I will never forget the day I began questioning what death felt like, or what was on the "other side". Who would love me when I left. These were everyday questions that I asked myself. The 13th of August was the day my father first hit my mother. I thought that was normal. As well as him hitting me.

NOVEMBER 2014

I'm in eighth grade now. No confidence or self esteem. All I knew that maybe suicide was the answer to all of my problems. The weight gain from my emotional dwellings was something that concerned me and made me feel terrible about myself. I hated who I was and wanted out of my skin. My relationship with my parents.. there was none. (Oh the tears…) My friend Aubrey, she was gone. I felt as if I had no one during this time. No one to cry out to. No one would listen to me even if I tried. The mirror mocked me, yet I still spent endless hours staring into. The first time I picked up the blade, I'll never forget it. How stupid I was to even do it. The demon inside me was growing fast.

MARCH 2015

School could kill itself. Did nothing for me but made me worse. Inflicting pain on myself did not kill my emotions but made them worse. The marks were hard to hide on my thighs during PE. Every day I was hoping no one would notice. Never once did I use the blade against my wrists, too revealing. My thoughts were becoming darker and more broad. More unanswerable. At this time, I decided I had had enough. It was going to end.

AUGUST 2015

I had a plan. A plan to end it all. I stopped using the blade once I realized it was doing no good and was stupid. I hated myself for doing it. The friends I made in eighth grade had turned against me and used me. Humiliated me in front of everyone. My father becoming verbally abusive was something I could not deal with. No one listened to me. Nobody. I just wanted it all to be over. I hated myself, I hated everyone, I hated life. I had decided that on my fifteenth birthday, I was going to quit. I had given up.

NOVEMBER 2015

What I thought was just another month closer to my ending, was the month that my life changed. Who I thought was just a friend, was actually a hero. He saved me. My love for life returned and my hope had been restored. November 25th, 2015 was the day when I realized I had to keep fighting. No longer did I have unanswerable thoughts. No longer was there pain and hate. The demon inside of me had been slaughtered by love. The mirror became my best friend. My life went from black and white, to a vivid color wheel.

JANUARY 2016

As I sit here writing this, all I can say is how much I have changed. Although I did not go into too much detail with my situations, it still reminds me of the heavy heart I carried around. I don't let my past haunt me, I let it remind me of how my life can change in such little time. When I think things are going downhill, there will always be an uphill following it. And I remind myself everyday just how beautiful life is and how far I've come. I'd do anything to protect it.