(A/N: And here is my second chapter. Like I said in chapter 1 all chapters are short.. I actually think this is the shortest not sure… anyway please update and tell me what you think of it!)
I'd cut myself…whenever I could, just to feel relief and sadness. Relief because it took away all of my emotional pain and made it physical. Sadness because it meant I was still living this fucking life.
Occasionally I'd leave drops of blood in various places, trying to get my husband to see what he was doing to me, but as usual he was an ignorant prick.
Sometimes if he actually saw the blood he'd yell and hit me and make me clean it up. But what was the difference to any other day?
I hate to bleed. Proves I'm still alive. Proves I'm still weak. I really want to be anywhere but here and my first choice is death…
It never works but all I'm doing by cutting myself is trying to be seen, noticed b anyone who could save me from this life. Merlin, I'd even throw myself in front of a moving train…hell Voldemort just to die!
All I'm doing…is bleeding to be seen…
(A/N: Very simple just please review…I really love reading them!)