Every Little Thing

I woke up to a throbbing headache, and a throbbing wrist. I rubbed my eyes, then examined my wrist. The cut wasn't deep. but it was long, from one side of my wrist, on an angle to the other side. I knew one thing for sure, it fucking hurt. I don't even know why I did it. I had always said to people that cutting was for people that couldn't cope with their shit, or were attention seekers. I guess, the first one kind of fits.

I looked around my room. There was glass everywhere that was for sure. The vodka bottle was completely empty. That's probably why I don't remember the cut happening. I don't even remember what I used.

I stood up, and felt a sharp pain in my foot. I found my tool. A piece of glass. That's clever isn't it? Where was the glass even from? Probably the frame and picture. Lame!

I decided not to go to school, it only meant facing her

I climbed into bed and curled up; desperate to sleep.