SECRETS I HOLD
TWENTY-ONE
Secondary school was when Margo's bullying became much worse.
Now they would beat her and apply broken bones on her.
Margo's face would be covered in bruises.
Her arms had more cuts on them then she could count.
Life was hell for her.
And being in care didn't help her either.
She lost her guitar to those stupid kids.
Her room would be raided constantly meaning that she had to take her power log with her at all times.
Margo hardly had any friends. And any friends she did have betrayed her.
One day, it became too much.
She knew that a care kid was suffering from anxiety, so they had pills to keep them calm.
That day she stole the bottle.
She sat in her room, staring at it.
She opened the lid.
Took out a massive amount of pills.
And…
…
Nothing…
She did nothing.
She threw the bottle across the room and cried.
Margo was too scared to die, she knew it would all be over, but she was too scared.
Too scared to see the darkness.
Too scared not to breath.
Too scared to not feel her own heartbeat.
That same day she took the bottle and placed it back in its original spot.
And for that whole day she remained in her room.
And she cut her arm, over and over again.
Until she couldn't anymore.
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