Drip...drip...drip. The sound of blood and the sound of the cold rain merge together, both rushing out. The thick, red blood drips onto the yellow grass of the forest. I am weak! I cry. My tears fall and run into the blood rushing out from my open veins. I look up at the sky. There is no moon. It is black. Like my soul. I begin to think back to my childhood.
I was a happy child. My favourite toy was my fire truck. I played with it all day long. My sisters and I also enjoyed playing with Barbie dolls. We dressed them up. Sometime I wished I was a plastic doll, who wore pretty dresses. And went to the beach with Ken. My parents weren't the most supportive. Well, at first they were good. They took us to the playground and Chuck E. Cheese, and Burger King. But then they started to fight. It was revealed that my father had been having an affair for the past 19 years. I was 12. That was when I died. Inside.
A few months after that revelation, my parents went to hell. My mother was so frustrated with my father and his drinking. She beat him to death with a statue of an angel. Then she lay down on the floor, and beat herself to death, too. That was the first day I cut myself with scissors. I wanted to follow my parents to the grave. At first, the pain was searing and unbearable. But then, it went numb and the icy feeling overcame me. It was very nice.
I didn't do it again for a month. I was living with my grandma. Life was okay. Until the day I saw her. She was so cool and good at badminton and chess. She was a nerd, but I loved her ever so much. I asked her to the Halloween dance, but she laughed in my face. I cut myself that night. The flowing blood eased my pain.
I didn't do it again for a week. Until the day I saw him. He was so beautiful. With big floppy ears and soft black and white fur. The most adorable dog I had ever seen. I named him Dark Soul Reaper. My grandma called him Fluffers. He was my best friend. I played with him every day. I walked him and played fetch with him. He wasn't very good at throwing. But I didn't care. I loved him. Until the day he ran away. He packed his bag and left while I slept, without so much as a hug good-bye. In the morning I found the note. It was written in paw prints. I took it to a vet, who translated. The note said he was happy and loved me, but he missed his wife and children. My heart was broken. I cut myself that night. It made me feel better that the love of my life was gone.
I didn't do it again for ten years. Amazing, I know. That was before Betty. She destroyed me. I should have been the one to destroy her. She was the ugly one. She was lucky I was desperate enough to go out with her. I really did want her to come to Maryland with me. It's because of Betty that I ended up here. In the forest. Dying. I'm feeling lightheaded. I won't be around much longer. Finally I will meet with my parents in the depths of the underworld. My mind drifts to my room at home. The walls are painted black. No light is allowed to enter. I've boarded up my windows. In a book under my bed are my drawings and a mask. I usually drew myself. Not as I really look. But as I long to look. I put scars all over my mask. A dragon tattoo around my eye. Black stained tears running down my cheeks. I included a depiction of my favourite knife to cut myself with. The dragon symbolises how I want to be free, like a dragon soaring in the sky. But I am trapped. Trapped in a pointless world of darkness and despair.
I feel my mind fading. I can't remember where I am. I can't remember my own name. I open my eyes briefly and see Dark Soul Reaper running towards me, my parents behind him. My eyelids fall, and I die.
That bitch Gina Gambarro...