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Killing What's Inside Me

by Anna Braisted

I stare at my left arm as blood flows down like a river over flowing. It was my river of my relief and pain. I want to scream, but I don’t want my parents to know what I have done to myself. I grab my black pillow as I sit on my floor, crawling to the corner to release my life of a sweet melancholy. Lights off, korn playing in the background, tears flowing down my pale face as my eyes become blood shot. It feels so good inside of me now, but I don’t want to be sorry for myself. I was already in a lot of pain; nothing could have stopped me anyway. It’s my disaster that I have created upon myself. Not yours! It’s my body, it’s my choice, and it’s my life just back off away from me. I can live my own life of fantasy. Living in a cold world, no light ever shinning through my eyes. It’s my crimson tears that can run down my face, but unfortunately I have to live another day.

Going to school is tough as hell. Wearing a long sleeve t-shirt in the summertime is hard to explain to people like you. Trying to pretend that everything is ok. I can’t hide it to people anymore on what I have done to myself. Wearing black describes a lot about my attitude. Everyone staying away from me, even you. Is this what I want? People like you staying away from me? Isn’t this what I have dreamed for all of my life?

I walk pass my friend Alisha down in the hallway. She grabs my arm as I try not to cry when pain flows through my veins. A tear shreds down my face. She lifts up my sleeve on the arm I have left my anger on. Alisha stares at me like she doesn’t know what I have done. She yells at me and won’t stop; everyone starts to stare at me in the hallway. Some people see my arm, some people don’t! Why in the hell do people stare at me! Why? Why? Why?

I take off running down the hall and out of the school doors to relieve myself once more. I open my backpack and I take out the razorblade. It feels so good. I laugh as I stare at my arm. This all must be a joke to me. I decide that I shouldn’t miss school so I walk in the doors and I go to my next class. As I walk into my French class my teacher told me that I have been called down to go to the counseling office. Alisha must have told someone or else why would I get called down there.

I open the door and I see my parents and a police officer in the room with my consular. I start to shake and I start to breathe deeply not knowing on what’s going on. I cannot focus on anything in the room. All I hear are voices attacking me every second I start to go crazy and I just showed them my arm. I hope you are all freaking’ happy on all of this crap that I have done I told them. I did it. My mom starts to scream and yell at me. She starts to lose control and she tries to hit me. I try to right back but the police officer holds me back. My mom and dad must have enough of me and my b.s. in their lives. They say that I am a freaking mistake of them having me. Like I would know how to do anything right. Oh miss failure I am! I try with things in life but the crap doesn’t work out of me. I am not a 4.0 student. Its not who I am. Why can’t I ever live my life how I want to?

My parents grab my arms and they push me out of the door to the counseling office. I try to escape but the police officer caught me. She pins me down and handcuffs me and I end up in a place I would like to call hell. A place that is called Pine Rest. What a damn joke. I look at the sign as we drive by it. Pine Rest Mental Hospital. I laugh inside.

The police officer grabs my arm as I get out of the car. My parents escort me into the doors of hell. Why in the hell am I here I ask myself in anger and frustration. I ask the girl that works at the hell place if I could use the bathroom. She said yes, but I have to be escorted to the bathroom. Why in the hell do I need a damn escort to take a crap?

The witch (escort person) gave me this awful look like I have committed a damn murder as we walk down the hall to the bathroom. I open the door as I go in and she waits outside. Thank god for me being alone at once. By this point in my life I don’t give a flying rats butt on anything anymore. I want to cut so badly I tell myself as I glance at my reflection off of the mirror. In my reflection I see a paper towel dispenser. I said to myself that I shouldn’t do this but then I tell myself it will feel so good. Cutting is a damn drug to me I tell you!

I quickly force myself over by the dispenser as my body starts to shake and my lips start to quiver. I hold my arm up to the edge of the dispenser. I try not to think of all of the crap that has been happening in the past few days but it all just keeps on coming back. I run my wrist across closing my eyes as I feel the bottom edge of the dispenser where it rips the paper off. I start to cry this time. I open my eyes as I stare at my arm with a bunch of skin missing, I never have realized in my whole life how deep I could cut my wrists open. I start to feel woozy as I see all of the blood that is flowing out of my arm.

I pass out feeling that my life was ending. When I woke up I was in a room that I have never have seen in my life before. The walls are padded and there was a fiberglass window. I know that there are people behind it observing me and my behavior. So for the hell of it I just went freaking crazy. I don’t give a crap. Why in the hell should I give a crap? I made it this far with this bull so why not finish it all. My hands are handcuffed together behind my back. I start to go psycho and I scream and I feel like I have just killed someone but I didn’t. I have just killed my soul, my faith, my happiness… everything I did have is now gone. Gone in despair.