WARNING: There is a description of self harm which is why I raised the rating. If you think this could be triggering for you please be careful.
The hatred wells up inside of me until I feel as if I am about to be sick. Weakling, idiot, runt, worthless. The words are on repeat running over and over again each time making me cringe. The truth or the words is overbearing until I just cant do it anymore. I stand and begin pacing back and forth as quickly as possible, hitting my thigh with my fist with all the force I have. It is not enough though, my mind is whirling to fast.
Spinning again something catches my eye, stoping me where I stand. It is laying there on my desk just where I left it. The perfect solution. The perfect punishment. The idea hits and solidifies in my mind. The loud words suppressing any rational thought. You will never be worth anything. You are utterly worthless. Everyone despises your presence. The lump in my throat will not disappear but with a solution I am filled with the determination to free myself from the repeated insults.
In several quick steps I am at my door locking it firmly. Not that anyone would bother to come in anyway. Back on my bed I sit down, my hands shaking slightly I begin to lift up my tunic reveling my deathly pail skin. Dagger In hand I bring the blade up to the space right above my hip, the bone easily seen due to my lack of interest in food.
Already the insults seem to fade slightly as if they know I am about to be punished and they need not interfere any longer. With one quick movement I bring the blade down quickly and sharply. There is a slight sting and as I watch the skin slowly takes on a rosy hue. It is not enough the slight sting of physical pain calms me slightly but the turents of hurt are still pounding around my mind.
I bring the knife up to my skin again and again the blood slowly beading up in a line until with one more stroke that tips the balance the blood begins to drip down. The dark liquid disappearing onto the black line of my trousers. The bright red on the white is fascinating to look at but more than that, for the first time in ages, I feel in control. I feel calmer. Everything feels slightly better. Before the decision is even consciously made I rase the dagger again, this time the marks come faster and go deeper. One after another after another. Each one giving me strength. The read is flowing freely, marring my otherwise clear skin.
Finally with the voices silenced and my body at peace I slump back in my bed absentmindedly gassing at the gashes covering the lover part of my stomach. There is pain but it is a strangely good tingle, rooting me down. I am asleep before the blood has dried.
An: I am sorry it is still sad, I am going through a hard time but find writing to be therapeutic. I just wanted to say thank you to all the wonderful people who have reviewed you are the best! Seriously you make my day so much better!