Do you ever just feel like no one actually cares? Like…you mean precisely and exactly nothing at all to anyone? You could disappear and no one would care…or better yet even notice you're gone. Welcome to my world. You all think I'm happy, but I'm not…behind this smile, this laugh, is a lifetime of hurt. Bradie this, Bradie that…I'm sick of it... I'm sick of being a second choice…I'm sick of being treated like shit, I'm sick of being a second choice, I'm sick of being compared to my stepbrother…I'm sick of everything.

I opened my top draw and smiled, there it was…my only friend. It never said much to me, but it was always there when no one else was…so I considered it a friend…a very close one too. Just like real friends it caused me pain and hurt, except it was a pain and hurt that I liked and could take. I held the blade on my palm examining it…I found it so fascinating. I loved the way that such a small thing could ease everything; one slip too deep and all your problems are gone…and so are you. I laughed at the thought.

Ever since I was born no one wanted me. I was literally a mistake…my mother was even nice enough to say it to my face. I'll never forget it…I was thirteen... Fucking thirteen years old. I just wanted to know my mum…or just to see her once; one fucking time…was all I wanted. I was so stupid…I actually thought maybe if she saw me now growing up she would want me back…how naïve of me. I kept begging my dad…he kept telling me it was a bad idea, I should've listened to him…I really fucking should have, but I'm stupid…and I didn't. I kept begging so he finally agreed. I remember waking up so excited I was finally going to see my mum…I woke up early, gelled my hair back and everything. I wanted to look presentable to her…gosh I was so fucking stupid. I even polished my braces. My dad called me down from my room, we got into the car and he drove me to where she lived. We pulled up to the driveway and I walked up to her front door by myself…my dad didn't want to see her. I excitedly knocked on the door… I don't know why I was so stupid to think she was just going to open the door with loving arms, who would do that to such an ugly child as me? I waited a few minutes and she opened the door; she looked nothing like what I expected, she had short scruffy hair and looked like she hadn't slept in days or even weeks…but I didn't care… to me she was beautiful nonetheless just because of the fact that she was my mother, Yeah I didn't know her, but it was still who she was to me.

I remember she looked at me like I was a peasant, "Can I help you?" she coughed.

I was so fucking ecstatic, I was grinning from ear to ear, "H-hi, I'm Bradie…"

"And?" she scoffed. My heart sunk. I remember thinking to myself 'oh its okay she probably just needs reminding'…again stupid stupid stupid stupid.

I stood up straight and smiled, "Bradie…Bradie Gerald Webb, your son"

Her eyes widened, "Oh yeah…I thought I'd seen that ugly face of yours somewhere before...its uglier now though with those braces on. What do you want?"

I swear I felt my heart snap...it took everything in me to not break down and cry in front of her. Ugly face of yours…all the children at school have always called me ugly, even the girls hated me…in primary I was the only boy who had cuties in the school according to all of them. I always shook being called ugly off…but to hear it from my own mother, that broke me. What was I to think…I mean if my own mother said it…then it must be true.

I smiled to myself as I picked up the blade off my palm and held it between my three fingers and thumb, I faced the mirror and stared at the face looking back at me…I hated it, everything about it. My hair, my eyes, my nose, my skin, my lips…EVERYTHING, I hated it. Pure ugliness…it sickened me. I slowly raised my hand up to my cheek, pressing the blade against my cheek, even just the prick of the edge of the razor digging into my skin felt great...I took a look at my face one more time, then slowly began to drag the razor down my cheek bone, horizontally to the end of my jaw. It burned...the sensation wasn't as pleasing as it was on my wrists, but I wasn't done. I closed my eyes; my hands trembled as I slowly turned my head to the side. Again in the exact same way, I held the razor up to my cheekbone, pressing down into my skin and dragging it horizontally down to my jaw. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes; I squeezed my eyelids tightly shut. The blood was already trickling down onto my lips. My face went numb; all I could feel was the stinging around my cheeks. I licked my lips, laughing as I slowly opened my eyes again. I started pacing through my room...I didn't care that there was blood dripping everywhere, what for? Why should I care?

Chubby, Chubby, Chubby, Chubby, Chubby, Chubby... The words kept chanting in my head. It was my voice now; it sounded like me this time… not the high school. It may have been a 'nickname' or a 'joke' but I was never laughing...I am now though. Everyone's finally going to be so happy. Pure bliss. Chubby, Chubby, Chubby, Chubby… It's a brilliant word isn't it? Not too fat…not too skinny, just not fucking good enough. I wonder what it looks like to be 'good enough'…

But it's okay…there isn't long now, give it a while and everything will be okay, I'll be silenced and everyone can be happy.

I placed the razor on my dresser, as I slowly began to raise my shirt over my head. I squinted, hissing, as the material brushed against the incisions on my face. Any regrets? None, I love the burning sensation it gives you…just the way it crawls through you... magic. It makes all your other problems feel like nothing. My face was still burning...I liked it. I breathed in as I picked up the razor holding it between my fingers, staring at my stomach and chest. I hated it, it was gross, it sickened me...so pale. I laughed, lets add some colour. I moved my hand with the razor in it so it was over my stomach... I took a deep breath in and started slashing small incisions, over and over again, not deep enough to do any real damage. I hissed at the pain...it stung...it stung so bad, but at the same time it felt so right, I couldn't stop...over and over again. Finally I couldn't take it anymore; a single tear fell down my cheek... I dropped the razor, falling against the wall. From my chest down it felt as if flames were engulfing me. I just wanted to tear at the hundreds of small cuts with my nails so bad...the blood trickling down tickled making my whole chest and stomach itch in pain.

I looked up at the ceiling, laughing. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, I clenched my fists and shut my eyes tightly...taking in all the pain. I don't know why...but I just can't stop laughing, this is just so great. I've never been this happy in my life. I stopped, taking a breath in. Does 'good enough' even exist? I smiled. Oh wait, yeah, it does! How could I forget! Andy...he's just so perfect...he has everything; the looks, the personality, the body, the friends, the talent, the brains. FUCKING EVERYTHING, I scoffed. And what do I have? Nothing…absolutely nothing, I slowly opened my eyes again, staring down at my arms...nothing, nothing but this razor...and these scars. But it's okay… because soon I won't even have that. I myself will be nothing…non-existent...just like I've always been treated. But at least this time I'll know I did it to myself; I'll know why.

All I needed was a friend…one to call my own, not Andy's. I needed someone who was friends with ME, to hang out with ME, to talk to ME, to listen to ME…not him. All I wanted was to be understood…liked for who I am, just for one day someone to ask me how I was feeling…me, Bradie. You know I thought I was crazy for a bit…but now I'm not so sure…who's crazy, them or me? I was hurting…everyday I was hurting. I was scared, I didn't know what to do…I tried to talk to people, no one listened…they all said that I sound fine, I'm just 'sad' and that we all get sad from time to time, which is true…but not this, this was a sadness that never went away. In fact it's still here. A sadness sleep can't fix. A sadness medication won't help…well not entirely anyway, it might ease it for a while…bury it, but it's still there waiting to attack you.

Everyone pushed me away…locked me out, left me with myself. I needed to talk to someone; someone I could trust…someone close to me, the closest I had was Andy. I needed to be saved. I told him I thought I was going to do something bad… I couldn't control my mind, thoughts or actions anymore… something was taking over me.

"You sound like depressive maniac, you can't just go around saying things like that…someone is going to think you need some serious mental help, you're fine…stop creating issues for yourself, just so you can get some attention."

I begged, but it wasn't enough… "I do need help…please don't go, don't leave me here alone."

"Bradie, just shut up…you're fine, I'll talk to you when I get home." Pity I wont be here…

I questioned my self over and over again…was this real, am I really this upset? Or this all some situation I made up in my head? I didn't know…I sat there for ages trying to work it out…but couldn't. I guess this really was all in my head…maybe this is why everyone hated me; maybe it was why I hated me. I started to laugh uncontrollably…wow I really am pathetic, aren't I?

I searched the floor for the razor again…I couldn't take all this, the memories…the thoughts, everything. I needed it to end now. I smiled, there it was…I picked it up and held it to my wrist, tears began to stream down my face…this was it. I pressed the blade into my skin, as deep as I could, then slowly began to drag it up…I screamed in pain. No one heard my cries, they never did… I watched in tears as my skin parted, splitting…as blood poured out down my arms and started to make a pool on the floor. It burned and stung like millions and thousands of bees had attacked me, not even. I stopped; my body began to tremble uncontrollably. I dropped the razor, collapsing on to my side. Nothing burned anymore…everything went cold. This was the end; everything was finally gone.