She cuts to satisfy
She cuts to satisfy. She cuts to get rid of pain. She cuts to see the blood, knowing that she is releasing some kind of demon. She knows it could kill her, but yet she can’t stop. She is addicted to it. Her friends are concerned, and keep telling her every day that she should stop, but crying is her only answer. Her mama and her daddy don’t know, that the scars are from a razor blade, only her and her friends know.
Her friends have tried telling on her, but she only lied to them, making promises that she’ll stop. Yet every night, she cuts again, and again, and she is breaking those promises she has made. These nightmares keep haunting her. Memories of a happy girl running with her friends outside keep coming back. She sits down and cries some more.
The blood from her cut comes pouring out. She watches it as it slowly runs down her wrist, down to her bed. The drop of blood splashes on the blanket, leaving a blood spot. She smiles to herself, satisfied once again.
Her friends are praying so hard, that she will stop. But yet every day she comes to school with more scars on her arm. She tells them every day that they shouldn’t worry; she is not going to die. But they can’t help to be worried, because cutting will eventually lead to DEATH.
She knows that her cutting is hurting and scaring all of her friends. But like cancer, she can’t seem to get rid of it. It posses her, like a demon, it calls her name every night, and she has to answer, or she feels guilty. The demon has got control of her, and now it WON’T let go, no matter what. She will eventually die, but from this? Is it worth it??
She has already dug a grave deep in her mind. On the tombstone of death she has written Slicer the only name she ever called her self. She lost track of all time, and her other name. She only knows herself as slicer.
Slicer, Slicer, Slicer the demon calls. She looks out her window at the moon above. The blood is coming out, ounces and ounces at a time. There is so much blood; it could write the word cut four times, without running low. Her mother is screaming, but she can only hear the demon calling. She isn’t around in the world; she is lost in a dream. She passes out, and everything leaves her memory.
Friends, family, and the doctor are trying to wake her up. They have got stitches on her cut, 20 to be exact. Her mother is crying, and her daddy is sitting and staring out the window. Her friends are praying, and saying last minute words of kindness. The demon is still calling out to her, and she is not around.
She calls out to her friends and family. I’m back now, I am not dead! Nobody seems to hear, and then she realizes why nobody can hear her. She is not in her body she is a spirit, standing next to her body. The body she deserted for the demon. The demon called cutting.
She takes a final glance around. She stares long and hard at her lost body. She notices the deepness and looks of the scars. They were really deep and she now understood every bodies concern. She died from cutting. She says farewell to everybody, and floats on up to heaven.
Good bye to everybody who cared
By: pShantell Peterson
Her friends have tried telling on her, but she only lied to them, making promises that she’ll stop. Yet every night, she cuts again, and again, and she is breaking those promises she has made. These nightmares keep haunting her. Memories of a happy girl running with her friends outside keep coming back. She sits down and cries some more.
The blood from her cut comes pouring out. She watches it as it slowly runs down her wrist, down to her bed. The drop of blood splashes on the blanket, leaving a blood spot. She smiles to herself, satisfied once again.
Her friends are praying so hard, that she will stop. But yet every day she comes to school with more scars on her arm. She tells them every day that they shouldn’t worry; she is not going to die. But they can’t help to be worried, because cutting will eventually lead to DEATH.
She knows that her cutting is hurting and scaring all of her friends. But like cancer, she can’t seem to get rid of it. It posses her, like a demon, it calls her name every night, and she has to answer, or she feels guilty. The demon has got control of her, and now it WON’T let go, no matter what. She will eventually die, but from this? Is it worth it??
She has already dug a grave deep in her mind. On the tombstone of death she has written Slicer the only name she ever called her self. She lost track of all time, and her other name. She only knows herself as slicer.
Slicer, Slicer, Slicer the demon calls. She looks out her window at the moon above. The blood is coming out, ounces and ounces at a time. There is so much blood; it could write the word cut four times, without running low. Her mother is screaming, but she can only hear the demon calling. She isn’t around in the world; she is lost in a dream. She passes out, and everything leaves her memory.
Friends, family, and the doctor are trying to wake her up. They have got stitches on her cut, 20 to be exact. Her mother is crying, and her daddy is sitting and staring out the window. Her friends are praying, and saying last minute words of kindness. The demon is still calling out to her, and she is not around.
She calls out to her friends and family. I’m back now, I am not dead! Nobody seems to hear, and then she realizes why nobody can hear her. She is not in her body she is a spirit, standing next to her body. The body she deserted for the demon. The demon called cutting.
She takes a final glance around. She stares long and hard at her lost body. She notices the deepness and looks of the scars. They were really deep and she now understood every bodies concern. She died from cutting. She says farewell to everybody, and floats on up to heaven.
Good bye to everybody who cared
By: pShantell Peterson
posted by nat at
10:52 AM
|
0 comments
