From the depths of my heartWith my back against the door I slowly sank down to the ground and cried.
Every time, every time again I needed to be confronted with the fact he totaly didn't saw me.
But today was diffrent.
I was andry.
Very angry, with my father, with the girls from my class, whit HIM...
But the person I was most angry with, was myself.
Angry about how childish I was, about my stupid looks, about how I hated my hair and clothes, I hated how ugly I've became. And I hated myself because my father hated me.
I went crasy whit al the emotions in my head, crasy from the pain in my heart that pressed against my body and what I could not deny.
The pain that I could not touch or remove to a part negative engery outside my body.
I had to get rid of it. I had to contole it.
The first thing that came in to my mind what a knive. But what would I do with it?
I stood up and walked shaky trough my room. My sight foggy with tears.
I leaned againt my desk wich made it bend over and because of that my mirror felt on the floor. It shattered completedly against the floor so I dropped myself to my knees and went to remove the splinters.
Stupid as I was I cut myself in my forevinger with a sharp piece of glass. Astonished by the drop of blood on my finger I smiled.
The burden from my shoulders released it self trough my arm and finger and droped in the liquid form of blood to the floor.
Fascinated I looked to my face in the tiny piece of mirror and without any more thoughts or human scence I cutted myself in my arm.
I smiled and repeated it.
It didn't hurt, it felt great. I had controle about the pain I felt. This was my own choise, it was mine. Nobody could take this away from me, as they had took everything else.
Five minutes later, my hand trembling, I dropped the piece of mirror who broke in two.
Sympathy
Sweet
Alarmed
