She had been hurt and slashed to pieces.
And so, she lay there, scattered on her bathroom floor, blood dripping from her wrists, stomach and thighs, from the wounds that had been left due to the incisions she had made.
She heard a pounding on her bedroom door, a sound so distant and unreachable. She knew it was her brother, but she didn't worry, for she knew he would soon leave.
The banging finally stopped, and she wiped a few tears from her cheek.
She tried standing up, and with all her strength, she stood up after hours. She whimpered from the chill in the air, covered only by a singlet and her underwear. And she stepped in front of the mirror.
She almost stopped breathing, what she saw was terrible: her hair was a wild mess of tangles, her face was hollow from eating so little, her arms and legs trembled, blood all over and cuts marking her skin.But her eyes, they were the worst. Her eyes held the demons.
It was depressing to see what just a boy could do to her.
She fought the urge to go back into hibernation, for it was time for dinner.
And so, like she had been doing for the past few days, she slipped on tracks and a hoodie, elongated the sleeves to a point where she looked like an unkept, sad scarecrow.
She headed down the stairs, playing with the sleeves of her hoodie.
Dinner went by as usual, she played around with the peas in her plate, barely eating anything. She had half the steak, though, which she would later puke up into her toilet. She watched as her parents talked, as her brother laughed, and as their dog, Bob, wiggled his tail and barked. But she just sat there, smiling occasionally, but she was dying on the inside.
"I won't wake up," she half-wished, muttering to herself, like she did every night before sleeping.
And yet another torturous day lay ahead of her as she walked to her Law class, clutching her books close to her bosom, avoiding any unnecessary attention.
She hated every bit of it. She hated having to hear the taunts.
She hated having her best friend 3000 miles away from her.
She hated having to face her culprit every single day.
"Hey." And yet, he manages to pretend like nothing ever happened, like the party was just great, like he didn't do what he did.
"Go away, Max," she said, gritting her teeth. He swung his arm around her shoulder, grinning. She bit down on her lip to the extent that she could feel the sweet-sickly taste of her blood pool in her mouth, just to keep herself from crying.
And so, she lay there, scattered on her bathroom floor, blood dripping from her wrists, stomach and thighs, from the wounds that had been left due to the incisions she had made.
She heard a pounding on her bedroom door, a sound so distant and unreachable. She knew it was her brother, but she didn't worry, for she knew he would soon leave.
The banging finally stopped, and she wiped a few tears from her cheek.
She tried standing up, and with all her strength, she stood up after hours. She whimpered from the chill in the air, covered only by a singlet and her underwear. And she stepped in front of the mirror.
She almost stopped breathing, what she saw was terrible: her hair was a wild mess of tangles, her face was hollow from eating so little, her arms and legs trembled, blood all over and cuts marking her skin.But her eyes, they were the worst. Her eyes held the demons.
It was depressing to see what just a boy could do to her.
She fought the urge to go back into hibernation, for it was time for dinner.
And so, like she had been doing for the past few days, she slipped on tracks and a hoodie, elongated the sleeves to a point where she looked like an unkept, sad scarecrow.
She headed down the stairs, playing with the sleeves of her hoodie.
Dinner went by as usual, she played around with the peas in her plate, barely eating anything. She had half the steak, though, which she would later puke up into her toilet. She watched as her parents talked, as her brother laughed, and as their dog, Bob, wiggled his tail and barked. But she just sat there, smiling occasionally, but she was dying on the inside.
"I won't wake up," she half-wished, muttering to herself, like she did every night before sleeping.
And yet another torturous day lay ahead of her as she walked to her Law class, clutching her books close to her bosom, avoiding any unnecessary attention.
She hated every bit of it. She hated having to hear the taunts.
She hated having her best friend 3000 miles away from her.
She hated having to face her culprit every single day.
"Hey." And yet, he manages to pretend like nothing ever happened, like the party was just great, like he didn't do what he did.
"Go away, Max," she said, gritting her teeth. He swung his arm around her shoulder, grinning. She bit down on her lip to the extent that she could feel the sweet-sickly taste of her blood pool in her mouth, just to keep herself from crying.
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