Status: given up on unless people want me to finish
Why Won't You Just Let Me Die!
Drip
Die…
Leave…
Why are you here…
They are the words most accustomed to for me. No matter what I have been the scum of the earth. Constant screw up. I want nothing more then a second chance but seems like all I can do is live through this and hope it changes on its own. What can I do im just one person. -drip- seems like I can’t do anything -drip- a prisoner in my own life. -drip- The blood dripped down my wrist a stream teeming from the start of the cut. -drip- It left a tint on my skin the familiar color seeing everyday makes it less shocking. -drip-
“shit. I got it on the page again!”
Trying to wipe off the blood is useless it will just rip the page. While closing the journal a beam of light shoots across my cover. The door has slightly opened.
“We only want to help you. Stop being afraid of us. You will never get better if you keep pushing us away.”
“What do you mean get better? There is nothing wrong with me. I am who I am is that not what you wanted me to do in the first place?”
“Why do you always say that we never wanted you to be this.”
“So im not good enough whatever.” They aren’t my real parents anyway mine died along time ago. Time for something worth my time. Its time for music. The ring of the Ipod being turned on is familiar and warming knowing its an escape from the real world. All I know is there lips are still moving just more frantic and they’re faces grow red trying to compete with the sound of life.
“Can‘t hear you got my head phones in. Just wanted to let you know your wasting your time as usual.”
They leave and I drift off to sleep still in my stiff cheap bed hearing drip, drip, drip.
Leave…
Why are you here…
They are the words most accustomed to for me. No matter what I have been the scum of the earth. Constant screw up. I want nothing more then a second chance but seems like all I can do is live through this and hope it changes on its own. What can I do im just one person. -drip- seems like I can’t do anything -drip- a prisoner in my own life. -drip- The blood dripped down my wrist a stream teeming from the start of the cut. -drip- It left a tint on my skin the familiar color seeing everyday makes it less shocking. -drip-
“shit. I got it on the page again!”
Trying to wipe off the blood is useless it will just rip the page. While closing the journal a beam of light shoots across my cover. The door has slightly opened.
“We only want to help you. Stop being afraid of us. You will never get better if you keep pushing us away.”
“What do you mean get better? There is nothing wrong with me. I am who I am is that not what you wanted me to do in the first place?”
“Why do you always say that we never wanted you to be this.”
“So im not good enough whatever.” They aren’t my real parents anyway mine died along time ago. Time for something worth my time. Its time for music. The ring of the Ipod being turned on is familiar and warming knowing its an escape from the real world. All I know is there lips are still moving just more frantic and they’re faces grow red trying to compete with the sound of life.
“Can‘t hear you got my head phones in. Just wanted to let you know your wasting your time as usual.”
They leave and I drift off to sleep still in my stiff cheap bed hearing drip, drip, drip.
♠ ♠ ♠
keep in mind i am not really to good at this and its the first chapter lol suggestions would be appreciated any way to improve the next chapter would be great ^.^