I woke up at four in the morning.
I pleaded my eyes to shut,
And I begged for sleep to finally come.
I needed to be released.
But it was no use.
I got out of bed,
But it felt like something was controlling me.
Like I was a puppet,
And someone was pulling my strings
To watch me dance.
I walked sleepily into my bathroom,
And I started to run a bath.
I'm honestly surprised my parents didn't wake up
From the sound of rushing water.
I stripped off my clothes,
And I put my feet into the icey water.
I climbed in all the way
And I sat there for hours,
Thinking,
Remembering,
But most of all:
Deciding.
And then I made up my mind.
That I wanted to end my life.
I picked up my razor from it's secure hiding place.
That razor was a companion,
I took it where ever I went
Even if i didn't need it.
It helped me release the burdens of life,
It helped me feel numb.
But never numb enough.
I slit my wrists
And I watched my blood stain the white porcelain tub.
Once I was done,
I was laying in a pool of crimson water
That surrounded me
And it made me feel human,
At least for a second.
Then at last the world started to fade away.
And for a moment,
I wanted it all to come back.
My vision was gone,
All I could make out was the vague sound of my pulse.
It beat in my ears.
Beat.
Beat.
Beat.
Beat.
And then darkness came.

I guess thats where I am.
The walls get grayer every minute.
The curtains are auburn,
And the windows are barred.
There is a person in the corner of the room,
And all he is doing is rocking.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
It makes chills run across my arms.
I walk up to a window,
And I grasp the bars that line it.
I feel a slight draft of cool wind,
That swishes my hair back.
I close my eyes and get lost in a sea of my own thoughts.
I am in a prison.
And it's all because I acted on an impulse.
An impulse that I wanted to cut a little deeper,
An impulse that I wanted to bleed a little more,
An impulse that almost brought the grim reapers cold hand upon my skin.

My life is a disease.
One that crawls inside of me,
And slowly try's to drive me towards delirium.
A disease that does not empty me,
But instead fills me up
With the constant feeling of guilt and shame.
Life is just a disease.
One with no cure,
One with no sense of humor.
The only way to break free
Is to jump,
To swallow the pills,
To cut,
To pull the trigger,
To act on an impulse.
Because in the end,
The meaning of life is that it stops.

This is all i can ask myself.
This is the only word that my tender lips
Can manage to choke out.
Over and over
The word plays in my head,
Flashing back to memories I had tried so hard to forget.
Why me? 
I had a good family.
A loving and slender mother.
A stern but fun father.
Even a little sister,
Who was always so very little. 
My family was never a problem.
It was the influences 
And the stress,
The hurtful words
That the people in my school spat at me,
Like I was dirt.
Not a person,
But grimy 
Filthy
Ugly 
Dirt.
 
Only days before this,
There was a silly girl who picked up a razor
And decided to end her life.
But before she did, 
She went over all the bad things that had happened,
She decided which ones were worthy 
of her precious tears, 
And which ones weren't. 
She brought back moments of guilt,
Moments of force,
Moments that weren't her fault,
And moments that were.
These moments became reasons.
Reasons why.
And that silly little broken girl,
Was me.

My friend Sarah walked up to me
As I stood by my locker,
Gathering my books to go home. 
School had always been unpleasant, 
I spent most of my time during class doodling,
And the rest of the time
I stared down the clock.
The date was October Fifth,
Which was almost a year ago. 
It was a Friday night
And I didn't have plans yet.
Sarah tapped on my shoulder 
And when I turned around,
She made a sweet face at me.
A friendly and inviting face,
A face that was so happy
It made a smile line my cheeks.
"I'm having a party tonight"
She said.
"You're obviously invited."
She made another loving face.
Her eyes started so intently into mine, 
That it made me need to look away.
I kept fumbling with my books 
Trying to shove them into my backpack,
Which just didn't wanna cooperate. 
"Uh okay. Yeah sure sounds fun. When and where?"
I yelled,
Trying to talk over the roar of voices,
And trying to not get shoved
By eager students rushing for the door.
"8:00 at my house. 
My parents are away for a few days,
And there are gonna be  SO many people at the party.
Even people from different towns.
Just tell your mom you're sleeping over,
Because It's gonna run late."
I nodded,
And she strutted away
Like a model on a runway.
I was secretly really excited.
I've never been to a real party before. 
I went home right after school
To pick out an outfit.
After hours pondering on unflattering tops,
Loose pants,
And gross turtle-neck sweaters,
I decided that my wardrobe was utterly useless.
At 7:30 I stumbled upon
A red mini dress,
That was lurking at the back of my mothers closet.
It was a little big around the chest,
But nothing too bad.
Besides,
I was already running late.
I put on black flats, 
And I shuffled into the bathroom to do my makeup.
I caressed my eyelashes in mascara,
And I lined my eyes 
With a thin black line
Of eye liner.
I put blush on my pale cheeks to give myself some color,
And I put a clump of lip gloss on,
To try to make my lips look bigger than they actually were.
I brushed my redish locks,
And put them up in a messy high bun. 
I was ready to go.
 
 
I got to Sarah's at 8:30.
Fashionably late,
Like all the popular kids.
There were people crowding in every room,
Music was blasting
So that you could feel the floor vibrating.
It's almost like
They were asking for a poilce visit.
I knew most of the people there,
But some people I had never seen before.
There was a heavy stench of alcohol in the air
That lingered from room to room.
My eyes darted from face to face,
I didn't see Sarah anywhere.
Then I spotted her on the dance floor,
Grinding on a boy I've never seen before.
His hair was greasy
And he had a lip ring.
One of his hands was wrapped around her stomach,
And the other hand held a red plastic cup.
Each time he swayed,
The red cup spat out drops of beer
That made a puddle on the ground.
She saw me and immideatly came over to hug me.
She was completely drunk.
"You're here" 
She said,
Slurring her words.
Come here theres someone I want you to meet."
She stumbled in her high heels
Through a group of dancing teenagers.
She pulled me to a corner,
And in that corner stood a boy.
This boy looked different
Like me.
He wore a T-shirt with a bands name on it I had never heard of before,
And his hair flopped infront of his face.
He was really cute,
It made me blush.
"This is John."
Her words seemed to slur together as one.
Then John reached his hand across to mine,
And I shook it hello.
His palms were sweaty,
But somehow soft.
Then we started talking.
We talked about irrelevant things,
Making useless small talk
Trying to bridge over the awkwardness.
He talked about skateboarding,
Or maybe it was snowboarding.
It was hard to hear
Over the boom of the music.
He seemed nice enough,
Pleasant even.
He was really cute,
Much cuter than me.
Why he stayed stays a mystery.
He could have walked away at any time,
He could have preyed on a different girl.
He was three years older than me
And he lived in the town thats next to ours.
I was blinded that night.
I had grown up to believe 
That everything is what is seems. 
People who look like they're pleasant
Are pleasant,
People who look mean,
Are mean,
And people who smile
Are happy.
But smiles are easy to fake. 
I grew up in a fairytale,
And I forgot to keep my feet on the ground.
We talked for a long time,
And then he shouted
"It's really loud in here!
Wanna go some place more quiet?"
"Sure!"
I said
Maybe a little too eager.
He led me into Sarah's guest room
And he shut the door.
As soon as I heard
The click of the lock,
A wave of unsettlement washed over me.
I crossed my arms tight,
And I started to walk towards the door.
"I have to go see if Sarah is okay."
But he put his arm out infront of me.
"She's fine."
He said harshly.
And all too fast,
He started putting his hands all over me.
I pushed away
But his grip was strong.
Then he started kissing me.
He tasted of alcohol.
I tryed to kick him off but he was persistent.
I got scared.
He pushed me down onto the bed,
And started to unbutton
The already loose-around-the-chest red mini dress.
He tore off my underwear,
Un-did his zipper,
Clamped his hands around my neck
And held tightly.
"Just relax.
You'll love it.
They all do in the end..."
He pushed,
I went stiff.
Frozen in sheer pain,
His kness pressed tighter against my thighs.
I tried to yell
But no one heard me,
Because they were busy dancing to music
That was way too loud.
They were busy not caring that I was stuck in a room
With a monster.
But just like every monster,
You wont know what they are when you first meet them.
You will flirt with them,
Maybe even like them.
Until it turns it's fierceful head around,
And shows you just how much damage they can do.
 
The alcohol made him take longer,
But when he was finally done he got off
Hands sticky with my blood.
Pain shot through my body
Echoing from all different parts of me.
I felt raw,
Empty,
Etched into something that's no longer human
But something entirely different on it's own.
He dressed himself
Leaving me laying down
So still I could have been mistaken for dead.
My throat dried up,
Coarse from screams so thick
Suddenly loosened
As words escaped my vocal cords.
"I'll tell"
Two simple words
Which should had been enough to scare him.
But it wasn't.
And the words he said next
I will never forget.
"No one will believe a slut like you."
 
I had known John only one night.
And in one night,
He managed to ruin everything.
He was the pebble in the water
That started the ripple effect
Of my dismay.
I never told Sarah the truth about that night,
Or anyone for that matter.
No one would believe me.
John took more than my innocence that night.
He took the last bit of trust that I had in this world
And he never gave it back.

I went back to school
The following Monday.
My mind was bent,
My hope was twisted,
And the rest of my faith in humanity
Was thrown away,
Just like my virginity.
I clutched my books hard to my chest,
As if plastic and paper
Could protect me from the world.
I'm not sure how I managed to get up for school that day.
I was no longer a person.
I was shattered like a mirror,
Distorted reflection shining through.
 
I walked through the dreary halls
To find my first class.
But something was wrong.
With every step
My sneakers made,
I saw people stare at me
Like I had four heads.
Blue eyes,
Green eyes,
Brown eyes,
All gazed at me.
And their lips
Were giggling,
Like I had just told a joke.
People would look at me
Then turn around and whisper to a friend.
I felt my stomach drop to the ends of my toes,
And heat rose to my cheeks.
What was happening?
I wanted to run away
But my feet felt like they were glued to the floor.
That's when Sarah came over.
"Why didn't you tell me about you and John?"
My heart sank.
I felt bile swishing in my stomach,
Threataning to jump out of my mouth.
"W-What?"
I choked on my words.
"You and John totally DID it!
Everyones talking about it.
John told a lot of people.
So what happened?
Tell me EVERYTHING."
John told people?
That horrible monster
Told his friends,
So he could be praised?
I bet he didn't mention my consant pleading.
"No.
Please.
Stop."
These simple words
never sounded so terrifying before.
I bet he didn't talk about
The tears I tried so hard to hold in,
But I failed,
And they poured down my face
Washing away the mascara and eye liner
I spent so long putting on.
I bet he didn't say anything
About the bruises that swell on my wrists legs and neck,
From when he held me down.
The whole school
Thinks I'm a slut,
And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
 
Every day
I would drag myself out of bed,
I would throw on something unflattering,
I would skip breakfast,
And I would slowly inch my way
To school.
Every day
I would get ridiculed,
Curses were thrown at me,
Words like
Slut,
Whore,
And tramp
Became my name.
And it was all because of a boy
Who knew me for one night.

I found the razor
In the bathroom closet.
It probably belonged to my father,
But I could tell by the way it was collecting dust
That it hadn't been used in a while.
I picked it up
And held it gingerly in my hands.
I had heard stories 
About people who hurt themselves
On purpose,
But I never would think 
That I would be one of them.
I sat in my bed 
After my parents and sister were fast asleep,
And I decided whether I should do it or not. 
The words 
Slut,
Whore,
And tramp
Rang in my head,
Like every time someone said something,
They were telling me to do it.
To put the blade to my wrist,
And let scarlet blood 
Pour out.
Blood is precious,
So are tears.
They shouldn't be wasted
On people so ignorant. 
But ignorance is bliss,
Right?
What they didn't know,
They couldn't feel guilty of.
But I wanted them all to know. 
So without anymore thinking
I raised the blade to my wrist,
And I wrote all of the hate on my arms
Leaving only scars as evidence. 

I sit on a metallic bed,
And my head aches
With all of the pain.
I go over every detail 
Of all the bad things that had happened.
I clear up the memories,
The feeling of uncertainty, 
And the feeling 
Of being a waste of space. 
Every organism in this world
Is born for a reason,
Every person that breathes 
Has feelings,
And can hurt.
Life is fragile,
Skin can be torn,
Bones can be broken,
Hearts can be shattered.
The pain isn't any less intense than it was before, 
But I realized
That I'm no longer afraid of hurting.
All you can do in this world is act on an impulse.
Throw out the pills,
Put down the gun,
Let go of the razor.
Because in the end of the end,
Dying is simple.
The only thing
That can really set you free,
Is moving forward.