Sorry it has taken so long for me to get this out! Life has been super busy but I hope to start pumping out more chapters from now on! So please enjoy!

Song featured- Mad World by Adam Lambert

WARNING: Abuse and self-harm

All around me are familiar faces

Worn out places, worn out faces

Bright and early for the daily races

Going nowhere, going nowhere

Their tears are filling up their glasses

No expression, no expression

Hide my head, I wanna drown my sorrow

No tomorrow, no tomorrow

And I find it kind of funny

I find it kind of sad

The dreams in which I'm dying

Are the best I've ever had

I find it hard to tell you

I find it hard to take

When people run in circles, it's a very, very

Mad world, mad world

Cafeteria food was freaking disgusting. None of the options in front of Delilah looked good. Some didn't even look edible! Was that Sloppy Joe or meatloaf? Or was it lasagna? She didn't know, but she wasn't about to find out. Delilah just grabbed an apple, figuring that it was the only safe option. Seeing what was being served ruined her appetite anyway.

"So why'd you ditch us on Friday?" she suddenly heard.

Gasping, Delilah turned around to find a frowning Annie staring at her with her arms crossed. "God, why do you always do that! You're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days. Do you really want that on your conscience?"

"Don't change the subject," Annie said, "Why'd you leave the party?"

"My curfew was coming up," Delilah explained, "You guys were drinking so I just went home."

"It's not like we were drinking that much. Still, you could've told us you were leaving. Must've been a bitch to walk all the way from Lydia's."

"Actually… I got a ride."

Annie's eyes squinted in suspicion. "From who?"

Delilah laughed nervously. "What is this, a game of twenty questions?" But Annie just stared at her best friend, not at all amused by her tactics. Knowing Annie, she was not about to let this go. So Delilah sighed in defeat. "Isaac Lahey."

The blonde gasped as if Delilah had told her that she had just robbed a bank. "The grave digger?!"

Almost everyone in the cafeteria snapped their heads at Annie's exclamation. Delilah's face heated up as she tried to keep her best friend quiet.

"Could you be any louder?" she hissed, "And what is the big deal?"

"The big deal? D, it's Isaac Lahey. He's a loner. I don't think I've ever seen him talk to anyone. And did you miss the part where I said that he's a grave digger?"

"Yeah, I think I along with the entire student body, heard you loud and clear. And so what that he works at a cemetery? It's a job. It's not like he's the one killing people."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he was," Annie scoffed.

This attitude coming from her best friend was starting to get on Delilah's nerves. She dropped her bag on a vacant table. "Don't be mean, Annie."

"I'm just saying. Also, have you met Isaac's dad? The one that actually runs said cemetery?" The blonde shuddered. "Total creep. And you know what they say- the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

That part wasn't totally false. Not the part about the apple falling from the tree, but Isaac's dad being off. Delilah had never really interacted with the man before herself. Her stepfather Lawrence did sometimes speak with Dave Lahey in passing since they lived across the street from each other. There was always something about Dave that struck Delilah as unsettling. She didn't know what it was, but what she did know is that she would never want to be alone with him for any reason.

With Isaac, it was a different story. Granted, the two teenagers had never spoken a word to each other before until last week. Yet Isaac was kind to Delilah without having any reason to be. He didn't have to take her home the other night, but he did without a single complaint. He even gave Delilah his jacket, which she should return soon. Would he have done that if he had ill intentions?

Well, maybe. Isaac was a guy, after all. Most guys were suspicious, in all honesty. Still, Delilah didn't get that bad feeling from Isaac at all. In fact, she felt safe around him. It was strange. But in a good way.

"Look, Isaac was just giving me a ride home. Nothing more, nothing less. Can we move on from it already?"

Although it was clear that Annie had a lot more to say, she decided to no longer press on the subject. Not before closing off her argument with, "I'm just looking out for you, D. Be careful around the Laheys. That's all."

Right. Sure, maybe Annie really did have Delilah's best interest at heart in some part of her brain, but all the blonde really cared about was how people perceived her. Everyone in their group did. If either of them were caught mingling with anyone like Isaac or Erica, it would be like committing social suicide. A bit ridiculous, in Delilah's opinion. But if she followed the status quo and didn't stand up for the underdogs, did that make her just as bad as the rest of them?

No. She wasn't like that. She knew it deep down. And if she really believed that and wanted to change her friends' minds about these people, then she needed to start putting her money where her mouth is.

From here on out, Delilah Rose Lambert was going to make a better effort to befriend everyone outside her regular circle.

All damn day, Isaac had the most killer headache that he just couldn't shake off. Even the copious amounts of ibuprofen he had taken throughout the day weren't enough to make him feel better. He knew why. His dad found out that Isaac left in the middle of his shift Friday night to take Delilah home and let's just say that Dave wasn't too happy about it. How stupid of Isaac to forget that there were cameras around the cemetery for his dad to look back on.

Despite the pounding in his head and torn fingernails, it was all worth it if that meant that Delilah Lambert would give him the time of day. And he would do it again in a heartbeat if she asked.

Isaac's locker was near the doors at the front of the school, giving him the blessing of gazing at the bubbly brunette when she walked by with a couple of her friends. Not in a stalkerish kind of way, at least that's what he had hoped. Delilah didn't notice him, no surprise there. Isaac wasn't the type of person to be noticed by anyone anyway. But when she did… it was like being noticed by royalty.

When did this whole curiosity with Delilah Lambert start? Truth be told, Isaac couldn't pinpoint exactly when. He had lived across from Lawrence Porter for as long as he could remember. Delilah and her mother moved in with his neighbor around the time they reached middle school. Even though the two teenagers had never spoken to each other before last week, Isaac had always found Delilah to be quite pretty. Beautiful, actually. Sweet as hell, also. At least judging by how he has seen her interact with people over the years. She was so kind to everyone, including Isaac. They didn't call her the Beacon Hills High's sweetheart for nothing.

He was so captivated by the beauty and lost in his own head that he dropped all of his stuff when he was bumped into from behind. Of course he was met by the scoff of no other than Trenton. Surprise, surprise.

"Look alive, grave digger," he taunted as he walked by, "And you might wanna wipe that drool off your face." He laughed along with his other meathead buddies, slapping high-fives with each other.

If Isaac rolled his eyes any harder they would've fallen out of his skull. While Jackson Whittemore was known for being the biggest tool in the school, Trenton Prescott came to be a very close second. Yes, he may be an attractive guy- tall, chiseled, athletic, and a dazzling smile to tie it all off. Isaac could see how many girls swooned over him. But God damn, did Trenton's personality suck. He had been using underdogs like Isaac as the butt of his jokes ever since the third grade. That was basically all his personality centered around- being an absolute prick.

What the hell did a girl like Delilah see in him to make him worthy to hang around? Or any of the people she hung around, for that matter? She could do so much better than all them. If only she gave people outside of her circle a chance. People like Isaac perhaps…

Yeah, right. Be serious, Lahey. Delilah may be more compassionate than her friends, but that didn't mean that she would be caught dead hanging around a loser like him. They didn't have anything in common other than the fact that they were in the same grade. There was nothing else for them to bond over. Isaac shook his head to rid his hopeless wishes as he bent down to pick up his stuff.

As he did so, the gorgeous melody of Delilah's laughter had Isaac lifting his head so his eyes could follow the sound. The girl stood with her clique right by the doors and talking animatedly, hands moving to paint a picture of whatever story she was telling. She looked so lively and happy, everything Isaac wasn't. He must've been staring a second too long and suddenly, Delilah's eyes locking briefly with his. The smile she sent him was shy, yet friendly nonetheless.

For a second there, Isaac thought he was actually going to receive a wave to go along with that smile. That hope was immediately shot down when Trenton wrapped his arm around Delilah's shoulders as they with the rest of the group walked out of the building. And then Isaac was left alone kneeling in the school hallway in front of a messy pile of papers and books.

Come on. Who was he kidding? She was Lady, and he was the Tramp. That's how it always was. That's how it's always going to be, even if it broke Isaac's heart to admit it.

"Alright, Delilah, remember to keep your hand and the needle steady. Find the right spot. There, now insert the needle. That's it. And… done."

Finally Delilah can release the breath she was holding as she removed the needle from the cat's backside. She handed the tool off to her boss, Dr. Deaton, who smiled at his employee proudly.

"Nice work," he praised, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I guess not," Delilah chuckled, "Once I get past the sight of a too long needle. I don't get how an animal can sit through that."

"Don't sell yourself short. You're a lot braver than you give yourself credit for."

Well, that's awfully generous of Deaton to think so. A little too generous. Delilah chose to scratch behind the cat's ear instead of responding to her boss's comment.

"If it's any consolation, Scott almost cried the first time he had to give a dog its vaccinations," Deaton told her, "Just don't tell him I told you that."

"That does make for a very interesting image in my mind," Delilah chuckled.

"Alright, Luna, you are all set for the night," Deaton said to the cat as he picked her up from the table, "I'll go ahead and put her back in her cage. Delilah, why don't you begin your closing tasks before your shift ends?"

Delilah gave the veterinarian a small salute. "Will do." She received a kind smile before Deaton went to the back room.

A peaceful silence filled the room as Delilah began disinfecting and wiping down the area. Normally she would have fallen into a casual conversation with Scott as they closed up together. However Scott had the night off, leaving the girl all by her lonesome. Well, technically, Delilah still worked alongside with Deaton.

It wasn't a bad thing. Not at all. During Delilah's time working at the animal clinic, she had grown quite fond of the veterinarian. He was gentle soul, which was more than what Delilah could say about a good majority of the people she knew. In a way, she considered Deaton to be the closest thing to a father figure in her life. More than her actual stepfather, that's for damn sure.

Speaking of, while wiping down the counters, Delilah's phone dinged from her back pocket. She let out a huff of air when reading the message sent to her by Lawrence.

Your mom's going out with a few of her friends tonight. Some kind of 'girls night out' thing. Get Chinese food for dinner. Don't be late.

With a sigh, Delilah slipped her phone back in her pocket so she could finish her tasks and distract herself from conjuring up any 'what if's'. She completed her list quickly and bid Deaton goodbye before leaving the animal clinic.

Okay. Her curfew was at 10 and the restaurant closed at 9:30. It was currently 9:12, meaning that she had about eighteen minutes to get to the restaurant and order the food for herself and Lawrence. And then preferably be home before curfew. Oh, yeah. Delilah had the math down pat. Because God only knows what would happen if she dared get home one minute too late. So if that meant driving ten miles over the speed limit, then a girl's gotta do what she's gotta do.

She was able to get there eleven minutes before closing time. And the line wasn't too long with only a few people ahead. Delilah can breathe for now.

Until Erica walked in the restaurant.

Both girls' eyes grew wide at the sight of each other. Delilah hadn't seen much of her ever since the dance audition fiasco. Whenever Erica spotted the other girl at school, she would scurry away before Delilah could even think of approaching her. Erica looked like she wanted to run out of the restaurant right then, however, she decided that she couldn't keep hiding forever. So she kept her head down and dragged her feet towards the end of the line, or right behind Delilah.

"Hi," the brunette finally said after minutes of mental deliberation.

She received a hesitant nod of the head. "Hey."

Well, it was a start. "How are you?"

"Fine, I guess," Erica shrugged. She toed at the cracked tile floor. "And you?"

"I'm doing alright, thanks," Delilah responded.

There was an awkward silence between the two girls. Delilah clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth a few times as she tried to come up with anything else to say. Instead, Erica was the one who decided to take the initiative to speak.

"So I heard that you made dance captain," she said, "That's cool. Congrats."

This caught Delilah by surprise. "Thanks. And I'm sorry that you…"

"It's fine. I knew I wasn't going to make it anyway. It was pretty stupid of me to even go in the first place."

"No, don't say that. It wasn't stupid-"

"Excuse me, miss?"

Turning her head, Delilah realized that she was already at the front of the line. The woman behind the counter was patiently waiting for the teenager to place her order. With a blush, Delilah stepped up to the cash register to order her food. When she was done, she paid for the food and Delilah was given a number. She thanked the woman and sat down to wait for her number to be called.

Delilah had her chin rested on top of her hand as she waited. After a couple minutes, she looked up to see Erica walking up to her. She sat down in the seat next to Delilah awkwardly. They were both quiet. Neither of them knew what to say to each other after the uncomfortable conversation they had in line.

Should Delilah continue to speak on the dance audition? Maybe Erica didn't want to keep being reminded of that day. Delilah wouldn't. But she couldn't let it go. It would eat her up if she did.

"I didn't know," she finally said.

Erica slightly turned her head towards the other girl. "You didn't know what?"

"About your epilepsy. Some of the girls told me about the video that went around last year. I should've known and if I did-"

"You wouldn't have had me go to the audition?" Erica accused.

"I'm sorry," Delilah said, "My intention was never to embarrass you. Or risk you hurting yourself. I really did want you to have a good experience… but obviously I failed. And I understand if you don't forgive me."

Tucking a frizzy blonde strand behind her ear, Erica sighed. "I'm not mad at you. I guess I can understand why you did it. Though it was hard for me to believe that at first considering the people you hang out with."

"What do you mean?" Delilah asked in confusion.

"Okay, I hope you don't take this the wrong way," Erica finally said after a few moments of going back and forth with herself, "but your friends… they haven't been exactly the nicest people to me."

And the other girl knew that, there was no use in denying it. Over the past five years, she witnessed firsthand just how mean her friends could be. Calling people names, talking down on those they viewed lesser than them… it could get pretty nasty. Did Delilah ever do anything about it? No. She just stood there like a coward and feel guilty about it afterwards. No wonder Erica was so skeptical of her. Delilah would be, too.

"I get it. And I don't blame you for yelling at me, either. Truth is, I hate how they can be. How they don't even bother try getting to know anyone who doesn't have a sports car or shop at Gucci. And I know me standing by them while they do it is just as bad. So if I ever made you feel like they did… I'm so sorry."

Erica nodded her head in understanding. She chewed on her chapped bottom lip. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course."

"If you don't like the way your friends act, why do you still hang out with them?"

That was a pretty good question. One that Delilah never really thought about before. Why is she still hanging out with those people? All in all, they weren't really nice. The proof was laid out in front of her. They never approved of her crush on Scott. They call Isaac 'grave digger' constantly, and poor Erica… Delilah wouldn't be surprised if her friends were involved in spreading that infamous video around the school. And they always questioned Delilah's judgement when it came to those incidents. It became tiring after all these years.

So why was she still putting up with it?

"I don't know," she admitted sadly, "They were the first friends I made when I moved here. We're all in the same classes, extracurricular activities… they're all I know. I guess I just grew too comfortable. Which I know isn't a good thing…" She picked at her nails.

"Honestly… it makes sense," Erica agreed eventually, "but change isn't a bad thing. Maybe that can be good for you. You know, branching out. Meeting new people." She scoffed. "Like I'm one to talk."

"Yeah… yeah, I think you're right."

Right then Delilah's number was called. She stood up and claimed her food at the counter. She then turned back to Erica with a smile.

"Do you wanna have lunch together at school?"

After looking around, thinking that there was no way that Delilah was asking her this, Erica pointed to herself. "Me?"

"Yes, you," Delilah giggled, "We can spend lunch at the outside tables tomorrow. Just you and me."

"Won't your friends be upset with you?" Erica asked.

Delilah shrugged. "They'll get over it."

For the first time in a good while, Erica allowed herself to let out a genuine smile at the fact that she might have just made her first friend. "I'd like that."

The brunette smiled back. "Awesome. Well, I'll see you at school, Erica."

"See you, Delilah."

Said girl walked out of the restaurant with the food in her hand and walked out to her car. Pulling out her phone, she checked the time to see that she had about fifteen minutes left until curfew. She let out a sigh of relief. She was going to make it home in time. Maybe someone was looking out for her.

When she pulled up in front of her house after a short drive, Delilah parked her car but didn't get out right away. Her light green eyes instead roamed over to the Lahey house across the street. All of the lights were off, which meant that Isaac and his dad were either asleep or working at the cemetery. This left Delilah oddly disappointed, wanting to catch a glimpse of the boy and maybe even wave at him. Oh, well. She was just going to have to wait until class to see him. So Delilah grabbed the food and got out of the car.

The house was warm inside compared to the cool weather. Out in the living room, Delilah could hear the chatter of whatever television show Lawrence was watching. She set the food and her keys on the kitchen counter before shrugging off her coat.

"Lawrence?" she called out, "Dinner's here."

She heard her stepfather shut the TV off and groan, probably stretching his limbs. As Delilah set up their dinner, Lawrence sauntered into the kitchen with his white button-up shirt and slacks from work still on. Even his black hair was still perfectly coiffed after a long day. Which may appear normal to most, but never failed to make Delilah be aware to walk on eggshells around him.

"Five to 10," Lawrence said as he grabbed a beer from the fridge, "Cutting it pretty close there, Delilah."

"Sorry," she apologized with her head down, "We were busy at the animal clinic today so we got out later than expected."

It didn't help that it was just her and Deaton at work that night but Delilah decided it would be best to not mentioned that. Lawrence had a weird thing about her being alone with any male, no matter who they were. Lawrence just seemed to accept that answer and sat down at the table. Delilah was afraid to say anything else so she sat across from him.

No words were exchanged between the two as they at their dinner. One would see that as a good thing, but it only just confused the girl. She didn't know whether she should feel at ease or more on edge.

"So," Lawrence broke the silence, "I didn't get a chance to talk with you after your party the other night. How did that go?"

"Good," Delilah answered, "It was just your typical high school party. Dancing, loud music, you know. The whole nine yards."

"You didn't do anything you weren't supposed to, right? No drinking or drugs… no letting guys get in your pants?"

Delilah felt her face heat up at the crude question. "God, no," she answered with a nervous laugh, "You know I don't do that sort of thing, Lawrence."

"Can't be too sure nowadays," her stepfather commented, "Teenagers are pretty quick to rebel behind their parents' backs. Who knows what you do when your mother and I aren't around?"

As much as Delilah wanted to scoff at the accusation, she decided it was best to not say anything at all. Her knee started bouncing, which was something she did unintentionally when she got nervous. It irritated Lawrence to no end and he shot Delilah a harsh glare. Once she realized what she was doing, she apologized and placed her left hand on her knee so it would stop moving.

"I can assure you that nothing like that happened on my end," Delilah said, "I even left early to make sure I got home on time."

Lawrence raised an eyebrow. "You did get home on time, right?"

While Delilah wasn't a hundred percent confident on her answer, she couldn't let him know that. She didn't even want to think about what Lawrence would do if she didn't make it home for curfew. The only thing she could do was play it cool like everything was fine.

"Yes," she lied smoothly, "I did."

"Are you sure?"

"Play it cool, Delilah," she reminded herself, "Relax and he won't suspect a thing." "Yes, I am sure."

Lawrence grabbed his beer and took a large swig of it. The whole time he was staring Delilah down. Her palms were starting to sweat so she wiped her hands on her jeans. But that didn't stop them from starting to shake. Delilah didn't bother to pick up her fork again. Her appetite was gone.

"You don't want to lie to me, Delilah Rose Lambert," Lawrence threatened as he set down the now empty beer bottle, "You don't want a repeat of the last time you lied, do you? And stop shaking your fucking leg."

"I'm s-sorry," Delilah stuttered, pressing her hand against her knee, "N-no. I'm not lying to you, I swear."

She watched as Lawrence pulled out his phone and searched through it. Her heart was racing erratically, like it was in a marathon and was determined to make it to the finish line. When Lawrence was done looking up whatever, he slid his phone across the table to Delilah.

"Then how do you explain that?"

Delilah's heart completely dropped at the video on the phone. It showed the girl walking inside the house at 10:11, past her curfew. When did Lawrence put cameras up in the house? Where else were there cameras set up around here? How could Delilah be so stupid to not see this coming?

"It's not what it looks like. What happened was-"

"Save it," Lawrence snapped.

His chair skidded across the tile floor when he pushed it back. Slowly he picked up the bottle and walked over to Delilah's side. The girl kept her head lowered and eyes on her plate. She was too afraid to look at Lawrence. Hd bent down to Delilah's level and she flinched. His breath was horrific! The stench of Chinese food, beer, and cigarettes made Delilah sick to her stomach.

"I thought you were smarter than that, Delilah," Lawrence snarled, "Not only did you disobey me, but you straight up lied about it to my face." He threw the beer bottle on the floor hard, causing it to shatter into bits and pieces. A small whimper escaped Delilah's mouth and she squeezed her eyes shut. Lawrence grabbed her chin and harshly turned her face so she was facing him. "Open your eyes!" She immediately did so. "Believe me when I say that you deserve what's coming to you."

Then he shoved Delilah off of her chair into the pile of broken glass. She winced as she felt the glass cut her hands and legs. When she lifted her hands, she could see blood starting to seep out of the cuts. Her eyes burned from the tears that were threatening to fall out, but she didn't want to give Lawrence the satisfaction of seeing how much she truly was afraid of him.

"Get up!" Lawrence ordered.

But Delilah couldn't move due to fear. So Lawrence grabbed a fistful of her brown hair and yanked her up, making her cry out. He threw her across the room and she slammed against the wall. Her back collided with the wall and Delilah couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

"I'm so sorry," Delilah sobbed, "I promise I won't-"

Her stepfather had slapped the poor girl across the face. "I don't wanna hear it, bitch!"

Delilah's hand flew up to her cheek which had grown hot from the contact. There was probably a huge handprint on it now. The brunette still had her eyes shut but she knew what was coming next. She heard the rustling of a belt and she anticipated the first blow. It never came as a surprise when it did arrive, but it also never failed to have Delilah double over in pain when she felt the first strike to her stomach.

A cry rang throughout the house when she felt a wound from couple nights ago open up. Lawrence didn't stop there. He continued to whip her with his belt. The aims were directed more to her back, but if Lawrence was lucky enough, he would get her arms, legs, stomach, chest, and sometimes even her face. Delilah started to feel weak in her legs and one harsh lash on the back of her thighs brought her to her knees. She doubled over to protect the front of her body.

It was painful. It always was. But it wasn't something Delilah wasn't used to. This happened way too many times for her to expect anything less. And she knew not to fight back- she learned that lesson the hard way the very first time Lawrence had hit her. Also crying or apologizing for whatever it was she did wrong would not get her sympathy, so all she could do was suck it up and accept the abuse.

She wasn't sure how long Lawrence had been beating her, but after a while, he must've gotten bored because he threw down the belt on her back.

"I think I got my point across," Lawrence growled, "If you ever think about breaking another one of my rules or lying to me again, just remember that there's a hell of a lot more where that came from. Now clean that shit up and go to bed." He took Delilah's plate and dumped the uneaten food in the trash can. "You don't need to be eating anyway." Then he trudged out of the room with the rest of the takeout and another beer.

Delilah waited until Lawrence was in the living room before she started to get up. It was a struggle because of her wounded back and wobbling arms and legs. But with much effort and, she finally stood up, hobbled over to the closet and grabbed the broom and dust pan. Sweeping the glass up took a bit longer than Delilah would've liked but by the time she was finished cleaning and put the broom and dust pan back where they belonged, she was relieved to go to her room.

Her hand blindly felt around for the light switch as she walked in her bathroom with her eyes closed. Even when she opened them, they were clouded with those same unshed tears that refused to pour out. As predicted, her cheek was red as could be, traces of a handprint evident on her skin. It hurt to the touch. So did trying to pull off her shirt as the material clung onto the bleeding wounds on her back. But Delilah had to clean herself up, so she sucked in a breath and went on with it.

Breath hitched, the girl inspected the various bruises and scares tattooed on her body, some older and some brand new. They all were painful, more so to look at than anything else. Especially the gashes on Delilah's back from Lawrence's belt. And now one of her favorite shirts was ruined from all the blood on her back. Obviously, the shirt was the least of her problems right now.

It was the same routine every night. The first aid kit was taken out so Delilah could attempt to clean her injuries. Tonight's mess would be a little bit difficult to reach around, but this wasn't her first time. She knew how to make it happen. Small hisses slipped out with each drop of alcohol on the wounds. It stung like a bitch. They always did. At this point, Delilah just learned how to grow accustomed to the discomfort.

She finally managed to get the wounds cleaned and bandaged in a record amount of time. She deserved a gold medal with fast she could get this shit done. Twisted, of course. Everything about this was twisted. And so… so fucked up. Despite all of the pain inflicted upon her by her stepfather, in an even more fucked up way, it wasn't enough.

A trembling hand pulled open the top right drawer underneath the sink. Waiting for Delilah was a shiny object, small but mighty with its sharp edges. It glistened in the bathroom light, like it was taunting Delilah. Urging her to pick it up. Hand still shaking, the girl gave in to the temptation and lifted the razor blade out of the drawer. She looked down at her already scarred forearms that were waiting for another addition to the collection.

Don't overthink it. Just do it already.

The first slice to her skin was always the hardest. Everything after that was smooth sailing. It burned. A lot. Delilah couldn't hold back the pained shudders that each cut elicited from her throat.

No matter how badly this hurt, it couldn't hurt as bad as what other people are going through. People were being bullied. People were hungry. People are getting killed. Every. Single. Day. What did Delilah have to feel sad for? She had the popularity. She had the money. She had it all. Yet she had the gall to feel sorry for herself and stand by and watch other people suffer.

She deserved this. She refused to tell herself otherwise.

After the fifth cut was when Delilah started to feel woozy. She dropped the razor in the sink, right next to a few droplets of crimson red blood. It was running down her arms like a painting and creating another mess that she was going to have to deal with later. Delilah looked up at her reflection in the mirror. Her usually perfect hair was disheveled, makeup smeared, skin torn… not an image she was always perceived to be. She was a fraud.

That was when she finally allowed the tears to stream out freely. This was the real Delilah- broken, bruised, and scarred.

Review, favorite, follow, all that fun stuff! And be sure to check out the new chapter of my revamped version of Awake and Alive!

I'll be sure to update soon! Xoxo, Maddie