My Mistakes Have Led Me Right to You
One
Karisa dropped to her knees, cloth in hand. The red liquid that was splattered across her bathroom floor was beginning to dry, becoming a gruesome burgundy. She began scrubbing away the stains whilst her tears added to the mess. Her wrist throbbed dully as she supported herself with it. The bent over figure continuously scrubbed away at the tiled floor, erasing everything she had spilled.
Knock, knock.
“Kitty Kat? Where are you?” her brother slurred through the bathroom door. She immediately dropped the pink stained cloth and stood up, brushing her knees off. Karisa opened the door and found her brother lying lifelessly on the wall across from the door.
“Damn it, Damien,” she sighed. She struggled to pick up his 140 pound body and staggered towards his room. A few minutes of cussing and dragging later, her brother was lying on top of his blue covers. She picked up a hoodie of the ground and laid it atop his motionless body. Walking out, she shut his door and returned to wiping the floor in the bathroom until they were pearly white once again.
After, she washed her cuts and bandaged them. The clothes that were horribly stained with a dark red were thrown into a trashcan and covered by a large amount of unused tissue paper. She carefully washed the razor and brought it back into her room, tossing it into her desk drawer.
Karisa’s pink walls and floral designs could fool anyone to think she was just an innocent thirteen year old, but she wasn’t – at least, she would not be. Karisa didn’t know that the three cuts she had dug into her arm would pull her out, and replace her with a girl that went by the same name but lived for pleasure. She didn’t know that in her years to come, she would progressively grow worse. Her life was going to be all about forgetting her traumas; legality wasn’t in the equation.
That night, Karisa cried herself to sleep under her butterfly infested blanket while her head rested against a blank, baby blue pillow. A large portion of the blanket tucked her arm and teddy bear grasped forcefully against her chest, she replayed and remembered.
Knock, knock.
“Kitty Kat? Where are you?” her brother slurred through the bathroom door. She immediately dropped the pink stained cloth and stood up, brushing her knees off. Karisa opened the door and found her brother lying lifelessly on the wall across from the door.
“Damn it, Damien,” she sighed. She struggled to pick up his 140 pound body and staggered towards his room. A few minutes of cussing and dragging later, her brother was lying on top of his blue covers. She picked up a hoodie of the ground and laid it atop his motionless body. Walking out, she shut his door and returned to wiping the floor in the bathroom until they were pearly white once again.
After, she washed her cuts and bandaged them. The clothes that were horribly stained with a dark red were thrown into a trashcan and covered by a large amount of unused tissue paper. She carefully washed the razor and brought it back into her room, tossing it into her desk drawer.
Karisa’s pink walls and floral designs could fool anyone to think she was just an innocent thirteen year old, but she wasn’t – at least, she would not be. Karisa didn’t know that the three cuts she had dug into her arm would pull her out, and replace her with a girl that went by the same name but lived for pleasure. She didn’t know that in her years to come, she would progressively grow worse. Her life was going to be all about forgetting her traumas; legality wasn’t in the equation.
That night, Karisa cried herself to sleep under her butterfly infested blanket while her head rested against a blank, baby blue pillow. A large portion of the blanket tucked her arm and teddy bear grasped forcefully against her chest, she replayed and remembered.
♠ ♠ ♠
New story.Just to clear something up,
I do not, in ANY way, encourage cutting or anything Karisa may do in this story.
Not everyone is going to have a prince to save them.