Alrighty guys, new story. I'm so excited about this one. Sorry I know this is a short chapter, but next one will be longer. Leave me some love!
Chapter One
No, no, mom please. You can't do this. You can't make me do this. Please, dad, I'll get better. I can get better. Don't make me do this. I'll do whatever you want. Please! Just... please." Seth begged his parents.
"Seth, this isn't a punishment. This is for your own good." His dad said, calmly.
"Please don't make me. I'll get better. I'll do better. I'll do whatever..."
"Enough, just stop, Seth. I've really had all I can take from you." His mother shouted. "You don't think I've heard that before? I'm exhausted Seth. I love you, and your father loves you. This is why we are doing this. Now pack your bags, you're going."
Seth felt like his whole world was collapsing, and there was no one to save him. He had made too many promises, and he couldn't keep any of them. He tried though, really he did. If those fucking voices would just shut up, maybe he could be okay.
Seth ran to his room, he knew he had to text the one person that he loved, and tell him... You're so stupid, Seth, don't you get it, he doesn't care about you. Thats why your in this situation to begin with, remember. You were normal before he came along.
"Shut up!" Seth screamed at himself, holding his head in his hands. His eyes bloodshot from the tears, his nose runny with snot, and his chest was heaving and couldn't catch a breath.
You're nothing but a waste of space. No one likes you. You can end it all, you don't have to feel the pain anymore. You know what to do.
Seth sniffled, and nodded his head, robotically walking to the bathroom. He pulled out his razor blade, the one he kept hidden under the sink cabinet. It was the last one he had, the one his parents didn't know about. They did, after all, take every sharp object away from him. They wouldn't even let him eat with a knife at meal times anymore. Not like he ate anyway. He stopped doing that a long time ago, in hopes of getting a certain boys attention, but that didn't work. All it did was get him laughed at and picked on.
Seth brought the razor across his wrist, one cut, beads of blood pooled at the surface, another cut, more blood. Seth was in a trance of tears and blood and couldn't stop now. His arm was robotic as his hand dragged cut after cut across his arm in all different directions, then he felt it. That one time, it was all he needed, just to hit the right spot deep enough to pour his life out and leave this cruel world behind, finally, he hit it. Blood squirted out onto the wall, in the same rhythm as his heart beat. For a second Seth watched the artwork, his wrist left, but then he started to feel light headed and dizzy. Soon he was cold, and tired, and he curled up on the bathroom floor, and fell asleep.
