I glint as my metallic surface slices away at her skin, she presses gently to start with, wishing that she didn't have to look at me for comfort and support but I can feel the tension in her blood rising with every second she waits. She needs me just as much as I need her. Without her I would still be trapped in my plastic cage never to have known the satisfactory taste of blood on my cool surface. She presses harder. I do not know her name as I don't have ears, I have never heard her talk, or sing, or laugh or maybe she just does not do any of these things and prefers to sit in her own silent prison. She drags my slippery surface through her skin breathing steadily and calmly. Not a wince or a whimper can I hear escape her as the blood starts to stain my surface. She stops me when she can no longer see through the blood or her own tears. She pulls me from her wrist and strokes my sticky surface with her fore finger and thumb. Holding me up to the light she watches my surface glint and dance in the beams. I can tell she feels better now. I can help her, I am the drug but she does not suffer withdrawal when she does not take me only the jeering and patronisation of her fellow peers. They can hear me. The scars scream to them, abuse me, hurt me, and join me. She is more relaxed now. My evil tainted remedy has once again helped her. My teeth have torn deep holes into her skin, reminding her that the past is real, that the present hurts and that her life might be so much shorter than she once thought.
The blood trickles down her arm, staining thin lines along her pale skin, I do not know if her skin is usually this pale but I have only ever known her when she is sad or angry or both it could just be an illusion her skin plays on me but I do not know. The blood starts to pour deeper and deeper. She picks me up again and starts to slice into her damp skin. The stickiness of her skin makes me happy. The thought that she is hurting makes me happy it means that I am once again loved. But this time I can feel that something is different. She isn't stopping me from cutting deeper in fact she is making me. I do not want her to end her life but she has given me no choice she forces me to cut again and again not giving any regards for her own safety but this is where I think maybe she doesn't want to be safe. I give in. Letting her destroy herself one little bit at a time. The blood pours. I can see the cuts through my one eye. They are all too deep. They are all going to join the many that already I have caused. Then as quickly as it had started it was over. She pulled me out of one of her cuts and washed me in her own salty tears. It is now over. She places me in my special box and closes the lid. Another sleeping pill for another night. If I could speak I'd say"sweet dreams my little angel until tomorrow where evil will again help you live"
I just can't live with this anymore. I don't know any other way to cop it has all got on top of me the jeering the hate the patronisation. It is all to much. I hate it, I hate it I hate it I hate myself. The blade is the only thing that keeps me alive. Nothing else will do. I cut into my wrist. All my emotions steady at first as if my memory is somehow trying to block them out, but it never works, they will come soon I can feel it. I cut again, this time harder. No one can stop me .Nothing can hurt me here, I am safe. I can vaguely hear Simple plan in the background I hum along sweetly. "I'm sick of your insults so come on and take your shot". I cut harder feeling the blood rinse my veins and my skin in a kind of evil remedy. Nothing else will do. No one knows and that is how it will always stay till the day I die. No one will know. I do not cry. But to me there is nothing to cry about. There is no pain I can not feel anything. The blade I got from a pencil sharpener glints. It enjoys it. The blade enjoys torturing me. It likes seeing me upset. It has a purpose. It is familiar to me. Without it I would probably be dead right about now. I stop before it gets to deep. Knowing that even the deepest cut would not bring me anymore conclusion than the twenty that already crisscross my wrist. I think what would it say now if it could see me. Would it feel sorry for hurting me, or would it enjoy the pain. I hold it up to the light. I look straight into its eyes. Almost as if to set-in here say what you want I don't care. No sounds come but what's so surprising about that it is just a piece of metal. I am addicted to it. Almost as if it were a drug but when I go without it just mean it makes it harder to cope with the people around me. I love the blade. No other can come close to my familiarity of it. I know its limits and it knows mine. It won't go any deeper than I tell it to. But I wonder what it would say if I told it to go all the way. I am not delusional I do know blades can't talk. But it doesn't stop me wondering, if it could would it care. Or would it be like my supposed friends, leaving me in times of need. God I want a proper friend. You know the ones I mean, the ones you can tell anything to and they take your side even if you're wrong just so you don't feel alone. One of those mates. I have a few mates, I tell them secrets but I just feel so paranoid about telling them stuff so I just end up ripping apart my skin to get rid of all the pain in my head, the physical pain hurts so much less.
It's tomorrow now, only just. Actually its 3am in the morning and I have not yet gone to bed. I pick up the blade that has only left my fingers for the maximum of ten minutes at a time. I rip apart at my wrists. I don't care anymore. My blood pours out. Maybe I will go to far this time maybe just maybe.
I can't believe her. She is so self centred. She's like all OMG I have so many problems and I cut. But don't we all. For fucks sake she is so I don't know all about her. Cutting is so disgusting you have to be seriously disturbed and fucked in the head to even consider it even more to actually do it. She is so sick and twisted it is disturbed. All her stupid cuts, they bleed so much. What would her mum think if I told her? Shit I didn't mean to say that. Can you keep a secret? Well it's not really a secret but I suppose that why people pick on her. She hasn't got a mum or a dad for that matter they are both dead. She lives in an orphanage on the other end of town. I do feel sorry for her don't get me wrong I do but in a way its only her fault. Well that's what my mum told me. She said that when she was three she was playing with matches and the whole house went up in flames. Well somehow she survived but her parents died. Freaky really. She is a freak through and through though. I can see why she wants to die. Between you and me I don't think anyone would care if she did. Well no one I know would. I know a lot of people.
I love her so much. I don't see why she does this to herself. Blame her self for everything that goes wrong. Hate herself for everything in her life. Hate her self for her parent's death. She did nothing wrong it was an accident. I am scared that she will do something stupid before I call her tonight. She was so depressed today. I saw the blade in her pocket. The dried blood looked about one hour old. That means she has resorted to taking her cure during school hours as well. Oh by the way don't tell anyone about her parents she doesn't like pity. I don't know if she knows people care about her. I know when we talk I don't seem like it. But I don't know what to say. I have tried to help. I have been there but I don't know what is going on in her head anymore. I have tried to help I am sure of it, I hope so, I don't know. I need to call her but I don't know what to say. I know her answer to me when I say don't kill yourself she says why I got nothing to live for. She doesn't know. I need to help her. I am going to call her, bye.
Why do people insist on disturbing me during me time away from school. He just rang me up acting like he knows everything when he obviously doesn't. He just yelled at me. This is how the conversation went:
Tony: Hi what are you doing please tell me you haven't done anything stupid
Me: Well I would if you wanted me to lie
Tony: You stupid girl for fucks sake why didn't you just call me or call someone if this carries on I am telling someone I swear to god I will.
I hung up on him. How dare he call me and start to preach its not likes he's a saint himself. Druggy on the weekend, dealer in the week but I can't help myself. I am addicted to that stupid piece of metal that now hangs mercilessly around my neck. It's not like I like it. It's not like I choose to feel the way I do. Everyone is just like get your act together. Pull yourself together get on with your life. Nothing can be that bad. But it is. I am falling and I don't see a way up .I want to climb but the pathway is so cold and dark. There is no alternative anymore. I will bleed. I haven't got a problem. The demon inside my head has. Its never my fault its like i lose all control over myself and can't help myself. He rang back. I spoke to him this time it went like this
Tony:Hi look i am so sorry i care about you to much to see you hurt
Me: I know but you have to understand i am to fucked up to see whats infront of me and who cares anymore
Tony :I care. Please just talk to me i am always here for you,please say you know that i don't know how to show you anymore i love you
Me:what you pick now to say that.I care about you,thats why i don't want you to get involved i never want to see you hurt. I love you to its never changed. I will always care about you but i odn't know if i'll be in skool tommrow. Please call me i need to have something to hold on to.
Tony:Ok i will i promise. All you had to say was that. I love you please please please be in school just so i don't worry and i know that sounds selfish but i need you tehre if you don't want me to hurt you'll be there
Me: Ok i will just wait for me outside school ok. don't be surprised either. You will know what i mean tommrow. I have to go I love you xxxxx but bi for now
Tony:I love you to
I love him but i can't help myself anymore. I am destroyed. I am dead on the inside. I can't tell him that he wouldn't understand he wouldn't care. I want to die.
I am the cause to all her problems but I can also help her through them. I am her cure. I will one day be her mercy to this world of hate. I will one day commit the most harmful of crimes in honour of her own wishes. One day I will be soaked in blood and buried along by her. I don't know as I can not hear her tears but I assume that she is crying as a heavenly warm liquid flows onto my surface and runs away as if I hurt it by just a touch. Or the way my skin slides over her rough skin. Everything is wrong. I am meant to help her not hurt her the way I seem to be doing. No blood has rinsed away my sorrows tonight. No way to tell what's real from what is not. She picks me up. Reluctantly she uses all her power for this dreadful sin. She hates it. You can tell that much. But she loves it all at once. Nothing left to do. I slowly bleed her cuts dry. Her eyes stop dispelling water from their tear drops. If she jumped I could hear the pieces of her shattered heart breaking into a thousand small shards of empty glass. Its not like she likes it but the precise movement of her hands remind me that she needs this almost as if she was a person dying of cancer in need of painkillers. She needs me like a cure. Like drugs she is addicted to my false high. I am like heroin I induce the same highs and I last twice the time I am happy with what I cause and wouldn't think of changing for anyone. Especially not a jacked up depressed twat of an emo girl.
I saw her today. Looking as depressed as ever. I hate her. Why can't she ever be happy? It's not that hard to smile. She had dried blood pressed into her shirt almost like she is proud of herself.I can't believe her. One day she is going to kill herself and you know what i will be happy. I swear it will be one more problem out of my life. Her and her pety emoness. Thinking no one knows but everyone does. Thye all talk about her behind her back. Its so funny.
other friend aka tony
I saw her today. She had bandages wrapped around her wrists soaking up new blood. They look bad. I pulled her aside when i saw them and we walked up to the bridge because niether of us had exams till this after noon i asked her to show them to me. I needed to know how bad they were. She showed them to me. Very reluctantly but she did. I think that means that she must care about me. I care about her so much. I couldn't live unless i know that she is alright.