Listen to: Last Resort- Papa Roach

I sat in silence and wondered if someday, all the demons who dwelled in my heart would consume me. Because I would be fine with that. It would be better than living in this hell, anyway. I would say my lifestyle should have killed me by now, but I was already dead. My innocence, my youth, my heart had all died the night I came here. Here to serve others, bow down as a slave. It disgusted me, but I did what I could to rise through the ranks.

An animalistic sound made its way through my throat. It began as a low growl, turning into a screech, reminiscent of an animal about to attack. I gripped my wrist tightly and pulled my hair with the other hand. I couldn't hear a sound but silence now. My arm was growing numb and I realized, taking my hand off, there were deep crescent shaped marks in my skin. I released my other hand and a few strands of hair fell to the ground. It wasn't enough.

My eyes wide, teeth gritted, nails digging into my wrist. I searched the room for something, anything. I needed something sharp, to take all the pain away. I bit my wrist, making the blood flow to the surface, yet not cut open my skin. My hands wandered to my torso as I pulled up my shirt and used the sharpest edges of my nails. Small lines etched themselves onto my stomach. But still, I felt the pain. I needed to make myself completely numb. Punching my side with a fist, I realized it would bruise but didn't care. I literally slammed myself against the wall, finally collapsing on my bed.

I didn't see what I did as "self harm." To me, it was more of a normality. A way to express the hatred I had for myself. Suicide was a regularly occurring thought. It didn't bother me that I hated myself. I had gotten used to it. So used to it, in fact, that I thought it was the way I was supposed to live.

Scars lined the inside of my thighs, and a few scattered on my wrists. Straight lines of pain and hatred, years of it all etched onto my body.

Do you even care if I die bleeding?

Of course no one noticed, and if they did, who would there be to care? I wasn't an actual person. Only a little pawn in the chessboard of someone else's life.

Hungry feeding on chaos and living in sin

Downward spiral, where do I begin

I disappointed myself so much. When I was a child, I had told Luka the world would be better if there was no one living there except us. I didn't realize how literally my dream would come true. To see your entire village burn down, what a tragedy. It was a vision I would never forget. Not only that, but to see my younger brother lying dead on the ground. It pained me to think that I had caused this. I convinced myself that I did it all. I was the one who carried out my vision. To this day, I have no idea how it all happened. All that I know is that I blame myself.

Then I was taken here, to live in a world of sin and expect to enjoy it. I regretted every moment of it, yet I couldn't escape.

I can't go on living this way

I was trapped in a spider's web, and there was nothing I could do about it.