Idiot. Freak. Retard. Bitch. Little shit. Outsider.

The words penetrate my head, they shout, scream, cry. Heartbreaking howls that pierce my thoughts and terrorize my mind. I feel I'm going insane. I squeeze my eyes tightly together while I cover my ears with both my hands. I doesn't help. No matter what I do, I can't get free from the words. They are like long slimy tentacles, they pull me downwards, deeper and deeper, down to the bottomless hole inside me.

The darkness that where buried deeply in my mind earlier, are now peeking out from it's hiding place. Devouring everything. All of my happiness, all of the real smiles, the beautiful memories and nice moments. Everything disappears, like they never even existed in the first place. The only thing left after the darkness have flooded my inner world and erased everything good, is pure and true pain.

I hear voices in my head. They're shouting. Screaming hateful words. And all of it are directed at me. They're pulling at my soul, attempting to rip it in half, just to make me hurt as much as possible. They want to tear me apart, I can feel it in my heart too. They are hitting it with heavy blows, making it shatter to a million pieces; so it can never be healed again. Horrible words are pulling me even deeper into the ice cold nothingness that surrounds my mind and dully wrap my thoughts.

I feel empty. So empty. Too empty. Like nothing is left of what was once a happy and smiling girl. Where did everything go? My soul is stolen, and I'll never get it back. Now, I'm just a empty shell, waiting. What am I waiting for? Hope? Warmth? Happiness? Love? I don't know. Death, maybe.

My reflection is glaring at me from the other side of the mirror. Staring me down, looking quite supreme, in fact. Even my own reflection thinks I'm a failure. It always seem like she's laughing at me for being so pathetic. Even now, hear the malicious laugh. It's always there, no matter where I run. Even when I'm all alone, it lay there, hidden in my thoughts, making fun of me.

I clench my fists and give the reflection a warning look. She only smiles back to me. An insane smile that spreads over pale lips. She's not me! I'm not like that!

"Stop it," I whisper, not nearly loud enough for anyone to hear. The sound is barely making it out of my nearly unmoving lips. The smile doesn't disappear, it only grows bigger and bigger. The frustration grip me like a cold iron hand.

"Stop it!" I scream with all my power and slam a clenched fist straight in the ugly face in the mirror. The face cracks in thousands of tiny pieces which slowly falls apart before crashing to the floor. My knuckles are bleeding, but I can't feel any pain. Everything I feel, is the feeling of loneliness, sorrow and hollowness.

The pain is unbearable. It bites, claws and scratches at what's left of my heart. A heart broken by sorrow and loneliness. Destroyed by anger and tears. Crushed by words. It's like someone is stabbing my chest repetitively with a thousand needles, piercing everything I have left. The only thing that can erase this pain is another type of pain. A pulsing pain that proves I'm still alive and give me the feeling of being human.

Quickly, I grab one of the biggest pieces of glass and lead it to my wrist. A wrist full of scars from earlier tries. Earlier battles. The glass is sharp, and I don't need to put a lot of pressure to it before a round, red blood drop slowly roll out of the small cut.

Not enough, it have to bleed more. Much more. As much as my heart. Or else, the pain won't disappear. I push the piece deeper , and a new drop runs down my arm. And one more. And another. My body is tense from the stinging pain. Yes, it hurts, but not nearly as terrible as the agony I carry inside. I want it to go away. Just disappear! A burning tear forms in the corner of my eye and drip down on my bloody hand. I don't try to wipe the tear trail on my cheek away. Instead, I replace the fallen tear with new salty liquid who escapes my eye a second later.

The white carpet isn't white anymore. Mum is going to explode, she has just washed it- It was quite bloody after the last time. I really shouldn't do this without putting it away first. But that's me. Doesn't think. Never think.

But then again... Mum's been so off lately, she didn't even wonder what those red stains was. I've seen the pills in her drawer, and I've experienced what they do to her. It's the pills' fault. They dulls her senses, destroys her from the inside.

The words don't disappear with my cutting, they're only becoming stronger and stronger. It's like a hundred voices are screaming to me. Horrible words and sentences, making a gruesome choir that's playing over and over again in my head. The screams just seem to increase, and several more tears flows from my eyes. Only one thought stands in my head now; the pain must disappear. And so it does. The more blood that pumps out, the duller the thumping pain in my chest become. It's like a painkiller. Defeat pain with pain.

No longer do I feel like a barbed wire is squeezing around my heart, it's slowly dissolves, and the agony is replaced with pure relief. The slimy tentacles let me go, and I feel so light. Like my body is floating. Not even a small stinging remains. Not in my wrist and not in my heart. Not even in my soul.

Swiftly, I lean my body backwards so I hit the solid wall which separates my room from mum's. I guess she's sitting there alone, drugged to death and swaying to her favorite music. The sharp object in my hand is red and glossy, and once more I lift it, and place it on my arm. I feel weak, like my body is made of lead. I've never cut this deep before, but it was necessary. The voices wouldn't disappear. The words were just repeating themselves, over and over. I was desperate to end it, I had to stop it.

I roll up the sleeves on my shirt, exposing bare skin. Clean skin. Skin without scars. My shirt is splattered with red spots here and there, but I don't really care. I put the glass on my left forearm and start the work. MONSTER, I write. Big, fat letters. The blood is running fast down my arm, staining my jeans as well. Soon, I can't even see my skin through all of the red. The pain I felt in my arms just minutes ago is completely gone. A smile dances over my thin lips, my pale, deathly pale, lips.

If I cut any deeper now, I can leave. I can be free from everything. Free from pain, free from sorrow. Free from days alone, those days I always hid up in my room, crying useless tears. Free from the hollow feeling that threats to devour me every time silence engulfs me. Free from my "classmates, with sharp comments and evil laughter. Free from the word that crush me, like an ant under the shoe to a ignorant human. Words that break me with lies, hate and deception. Words who sting me like wasp, and cut through me just like the glass piece just did.

I don't hesitate any more, and with a last sigh, I let the glass glide graciously over the blood smeared wrist. I look down, and I realize, I have cut all the way to the bone. Strangely, I don't feel a thing. My ears are ringing, but it's okay. Compared to the horrible sounds of whispering voices and pain filled screams, this is heaven. My body is completely numb, and my wheezy breath are slowing down at an alarming rate.

Will anyone miss me? Would it matter if I disappear? Would someone actually care? Maybe some of my classmates will regret. I hope so. I hope they understand. I hope they'll remember their actions their whole lives. I'm gonna haunt them if they don't. I smile at the thought. Maybe being a ghost wouldn't be so bad? At least, I want to die with a smile on my face. Like in the movies. Yeah, when someone finds me, they'll see a peaceful smile on my lips. I like that thought. My last conscious thought floats out of my head, and I slide silently into the waiting darkness. It welcomes me with open arms.

A delightful darkness embraces me, and warm my ice cold body. I open my eyes, and see only a lit candle in front of me. The flame is dying. It's confusing, because both the wick and the candle itself are quite long. Then, reality hits me like a ton of bricks. This candle is my life. Right here, in front of me, I see the life I could have had. Looks like a good life, to be honest. Tiny symbols are carved into the candle, little milestones. Some symbols can be seen at several places, like hearts (and broken hearts), little flowers, raindrops... At the end, it's carved a withered flower. A blue forgetmenot, by the looks of it.

Just where the fire is burning, it's carved an enormous storm cloud. Longer down, I can see a school bell; graduation. In the middle, I see two rings intertwining; marriage. Suddenly, I see a little pacifier. My eyes widen. I could have made someone happy. I could have given someone life. I throw a look at the candle wick, and gaze on the dying fire, and I realize something important. I have just thrown away something extremely important. It's too late. My future disappeared the moment I shattered the mirror. A sad smile runs quickly over my face, before I lean forwards... and blow out the candle.

Originally written for a school assignment last fall, but I decided to upload it here as my first story, after I had translated it from Norwegian to English.
The theme was "Words", and I chose to write about "how words can affect". The message in this story is more or less Don't Give Up. No matter how dark things seem to be, there's always light at the end of the tunnel. You just have to hold on, keep strong and LIVE. Unfortunately, the girl in this story realized it a little too late.
~Rebecca