Just Because of a Stupid Pick-Up Line

Jen, a seventeen year old girl, who was sick of love. She always crushed on the same guys. Guys, that were only out for sex, and dumped her after they got what they wanted.

Jen had already had many of them.

Her first boyfriend, Mike, was the sweetest guy, she could've imagined. He took her out on romantic dates, always whispered sweet nothings into her ear, and seemed like he cared about her.
That, however, ended after two month of dating. Mike thought it was time to spend the night together, but Jen wasn't ready for it.
Mike dumped her.

The second guy Jen was with, was one of those everyone wanted. He was the most popular guy in school, he could've had every girl. A month of dating until Jake cheated on her with some cheerleader.
Jen left him.

All her other boyfriends, acted exactly the same, or hurt her in another way. Jen never had the luck, to find someone who really loved her with all of his heart, and cared about her. Someone who would've never wanted to hurt her.

Exactly that was the reason why Jen didn’t want to be with anyone, anymore. She didn’t want to fall in love, she didn’t even want to crush on someone.

Jen totally hated love. It was something she never understood and was never going to understand. Love was so unfair, at least to her it seemed. All of her friends had a caring and loving boyfriend or girlfriend, just not herself.

One day Jen swore herself she would never hook up with someone again. She thought she'd never feel this pain anymore, if she stopped hoping to find someone.

"Are you coming to the party? You know the one at this guy's place, tomorrow.", her best friend Alicia asked her.

Jen had never been one for parties, though she went to some of them, but after she stopped dating, she didn’t attend any of them. She just stayed at home, trying to break out of the misery, she called her life.

Sometimes she needed pills, to fall asleep. Other times, she just drowned a bottle of alcohol, or cut herself, to take the pain away.

Not dating, unfortunately, didn’t help the pain to leave. Her scars didn’t heal, they would've stayed forever.

When Jen's mom found out about the pills, and the scars on her wrist, she made the girl see a psychiatrist. Jen went there, but came home just more depressed, than she was before. Talking about it, didn't help her.
Her mother, however, didn’t understand it, she sent her to a psych ward, where she stayed for a month.

In this month everything seemed to get better, Jen seemed to get over her ex boyfriends, and be able to go on with her life. They let her go home.

What no one knew, though, was that Jen hadn't gotten better at all. She was still the same girl, with the same fears. She was still depressed, the psych ward only intensified it.
By now the girl was what you would call mentally ill. A psycho. You could've told her to kill someone, she would've done it. She wasn’t afraid anymore, she had gained confidence.

That made her bring up the strength to go to this party. The first party she attended in a long time.

After being at this guy's house, dancing, drinking, having fun, for quite some hours, someone came up to Jen.

Jen was pretty drunk then. She still could stand and talk properly, but didn't think straight anymore.

"Screw me if I am wrong, but haven't we met before?", the guy's voice echoed in Jen's ear.

"Huh?" She didn't know what else to say, without slapping him across the face, which she sure as hell would've done, hadn't she been drunk.

"Never mind. I'm Chris by the way.", the guy smiled.

Both of them were drunk, neither of them knew exactly what they were doing. They had fun though, something Jen had needed for a long time.

Almost in the morning, they stumbled into some bedroom, about to do everything Jen disgusted and had sworn herself never to do anymore.

When Jen woke up the next day, she didn't know what she had done the previous night, for sure. She could only imagine it, because of lying in bed with a guy, her clothes scattered across the room.
Jen quickly threw them back on and left. She ran home, not bothering to take her car or looking for her friends.

She couldn't believe what she had done. She didn’t want to be with anyone, she didn’t want to fall in love with this guy. Why had she even talked to him?

Jen suddenly felt guilty for the guy, who would wake up, probably not knowing what had happened.
Another one of her problems, if she left the guy she always felt heartbroken, but guilty at the same time. Even if the one cheated on her, she was always the one to take the blame.

Trying to waste the day by doing nothing, the pain overwhelmed her again. She hadn't wanted to hurt someone else, nor had she wanted to break the promise, she had made to herself.
She had broken it. Jen swore herself not to do it anymore, she had to punish herself in some way.

Jen slowly took the blade, it would've hurt, but it was nothing against the pain she had felt before, the pain she possibly inflicted on Chris.

The girl held the cold metal against her skin, drawing it along her wrist, not bothering to look at the blood loss. Again she draped the blade on her arm, slowly drawing it in a different angle. The pain, however, wasn't what she wanted to feel, so she started to cut in deeper.

Soon, Jen couldn’t make out where she was anymore. She had lost too much blood. It was her end, the one thing she had been looking forward to, for all these years. The only thing, that kept her from feeling pain.

Everything, the girl left behind was written on her wrist.

Sorry, it read.