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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1424263-Stone-Cold
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by Smile. Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Emotional · #1424263
About a young girl struggling to cope with life.
As I watched the children scrambling and clambering apon the red and green climbing frame, and tear escaped me, I wish I could be that age where a skinned knee was easier to heal than a broken mind. The children looked so happy and they had their mums cheering them on when they climbed to the top or hugging them tightly when they slipped and fell. The wind was chilling it was stinging at my skin, but I didn't notice as I was so lost in my own thought, hours had seemed to go by, but I didn't even notice I must have been here for at least the whole afternoon of school. Just watching the children play, I felt so isolated and cold, times were so much simpler then, the only pain those children would have faced is that of a skinned knee or a bumped head. Though I was not one to judge no one really ever knows what goes on behind closed doors. I hated growing up, why was the world filled with so much pain? I wished so much that I could be a child again and laugh and play and not be burdened with the responsibilities of school, parents and teachers.

The last few days had been the worst of my life; it's amazing how fast rumours spread. Life was awful, it wasn't worth living, life was too much effort. I was struggling to cope, and counselling didn't seem to help, and I wasn't going on medication I wasn't mad, that I was sure of. Thursday it had all just all got to much, I had been feeling so low all week, it was like it wasn't me, I felt suicidal all the time, and came so close to just walking in front of passing cars. But that day did for me, I couldn't go on, my boyfriend had just broke up with me a month before and that day was our 13 month anniversary. I loved him so much and he broke my heart, it took me so long to build up the courage to talk to him and tell him my problems and secrets, I trusted him that's what annoys me the most. I told him that I suffered from depression and had for some time been cutting myself. He seemed really supportive and I felt a lot better, but a month later a few days after our year anniversary he broke up with me saying he couldn't cope with my problems and me. I felt so let down but it was my fault to expect him to support me. I mean who would want to support me; I'm not worth the effort. That Thursday afternoon I needed to speak to a teacher, who knew everything that was going on in my life, she helped me with everything, I needed to see her I was desperate. I went to her room, as I thought she may have a free but was busy and so I didn't want to bother her again, so left it. But all my other friends that help and listen to me weren't there either and what could I do? I hated living I hated the thought of even going home. I looked for my phone to try and call a friend but I couldn't find it, but I found a box of aspirin...I thought for a second and decided it was the only way.

About ten minutes later and twenty-two pills swallowed, I slumped down to the floor in the girl's toilet. It would be all over soon. Alexia a friend of mine came to check on me she knew almost nothing of my feelings and being "some what" depressed, as my mum called it. She talked to me and brought me back to feeling again, I felt bad about taking them, but didn't want to tell her. She said all these lovely things to me, things I had hardly ever heard being said about me. It made me realise that this wasn't the way to go, and that I could get better eventually but it would take time. I told Alexia and right enough she panicked, teachers were told and an ambulance was called. I spent the night in hospital with a drip in my arm, my blood pressure being taking every two hours and bloods being squeezed from my arm. The doctors say I was lucky that no harm was done.

I went back to school after the weekend to discover that almost everybody knew about it; it had spread like wildfire. Girls who were supposed to be my friends spread rubbish saying I had slashed my wrists. I couldn't cope. Teachers keeping an eye on me drove me crazing my friends treating me like a baby wrapped in bubble wrap and my mum watching my every move. Today was the final straw, a girl in my class saying I was attention seeking and saying next time I should make a better job of it really upset me, did I really deserve this? Of course I did, I was a failure and everything I did I messed up. I yelled at her and then stormed off. My ex boyfriend phoned me and said that I was stupid and had no reason to do something as stupid as that, I couldn't take it, everything was piling on. I got so angry I hung up and grabbed my bag. I left school and went for a walk; I reached the park and sat on the bench. I took out a piece of glass and just pulled it across my skin, again and again. The blood trickled down my arm and dripped onto the bench and then ran over the cracks and leaked onto the tar. A sense of relief edged across my mind, all the pain and suffering seemed to just wash away with the blood. I pulled my legs up and cradled myself for comfort and then just sat and watched the children playing.

And here I am, still sitting here watching, waiting, and crying. No one seemed to notice I was gone, I didn't care though. I thought that I should really go home and do my homework. I walked the long way home across the fields and through the woods. The sun was setting, the orange glow filled the sky and made me feel safe but at the same time made me feel like it wasn't over and the worst was still to come. Everything was orange and red, I felt as if I was on the highway to hell. And the devil was playing me like a puppet. My arms aching, and stinging the blood still dripping down my arm, I ignored it and carried on. By the time I reached my street the sun had set and the moon was out, it was a dull yellow colour half masked by the clouds. The moon cast eerie shadows along the ground, the shadows seemed to watch my every move and glare at me. The gravel crunched under my feet, my heart was pounding.

I reached for the door handle, and slowly opened the door and entered a world full of mystified feelings of dread that I could never really understand. Little reminders lodged in my memory that seemed like far away nightmares would creep in and torment me if I wasn't on my guard.

The door shut with a click, I quietly went upstairs. I reached my bedroom and dumped everything down, I let out a huge sigh, then the harsh cold words that had always haunted me whispered in my ear, " hello sugar, how's daddy's little girl?" he said it with such sarcasm, I cringed at that, his hands stroking my hair, his breath scorching my neck. I was to scared to look round, I thought I had escaped this torment. Images flashed into my head images and feelings, of which I couldn't explain, I just felt sick and ashamed. Him touching me like that reminded me of when my cousin would touch me, saying that I had to keep this a secret, as he would hurt me if I told anyone about what he did. My dad turned me around, he had a brown envelope in his hands, and it was my school report. I hoped to god he hadn't seen it, my report was far from perfect. I had failed almost everything. My dad started asking me questions about why I hadn't been at school that afternoon, when I didn't answer he flipped, he started yelling and shouting at me,

" How on earth can you be failing your subjects? You're just not putting in the work and slacking off. You need to get your priorities in order drama isn't a real subject its not like you will ever be a real actress, your not talented enough and are to fat. English and maths is far more important and you have failed them both. Your grounded for three months and you have to study from the moment you get home to the moment you go to bed."

I couldn't take it anymore, he was never in my life so why should he care now, why was he back? He had left several months ago, after my mum found out that he had been having an affair, there was a huge row, and my mother kicked him out. I wished and hoped that my mother hadn't taken pity on him and let him move back in. I looked out the window and wished I was some where else. He took a swing at me, and I fell to the floor, my lip bleeding. He grabbed my hair and dragged my across the floor. Saying how much of a disappointment I was. I fought back for once. I started hitting him and punching him to get him off me, but he punched me harder. Then let me go, I got up, he said to get out of the house I was not welcome. I was fine with that, I wanted to leave but needed my shoes, I went to get them but he grabbed my neck and through me to the wall, I bent down slowly as my head throbbed, he pulled my hair back and through me into the shelves, my head hit the corner. Sharp shooting pains pierced my head; I put my hand on the back of my head and felt the blood oozing out. I felt sick and faint. I grabbed my shoes and bag and just ran. I ran for as long as I could. I reached the park, where I had been an hour before, I ran to the swings and collapsed onto the swings, struggling for breath, I pulled myself up, and took off my bag. I looked around the park it was so empty, and cold. I pulled out the glass and ripped it across my skin, I watched the blood flow down my white blouse and onto my grey school trousers. I cried and cried uncontrollably, I wanted everything to end so badly I hated living, I was fat, stupid, ugly, a failure, a disappointment, not good enough. I deserved to be dead, as then people would be rid of me, and I wouldn't be burdening them anymore. I opened my bag and took out the aspirin box, I had another one hidden in my bag in case I should need it, I took the whole lot, 28. I felt like such a failure I was taking the easy way out, I felt like I had let my teacher down, she seemed the only person who really wanted to help me, I raked through my bag for a piece of paper to write my goodbyes on. I wrote

"I'm sorry for putting everyone through this, at least now you can get on with your lives and forget me and move on. I'm sorry for burdening you, and I'm sorry for not being strong enough to pull through this. Please forgive me, xx Lori xx"

My hands felt cold, stone cold. I held tight onto the note, my blood staining the white pure paper. It would soon be over.

Time was passing quickly, I watched the cars on the main road passing, my head was pounding, it felt like it would explode, my vision was deteriorating everything was fuzzy, I couldn't quite make out what colours the cars were, all I know is that they were flying past. I started to feel tired, but also warm at the same time, I felt happy and at peace for once. My eyelids were heavy; I couldn't seem to keep awake. Everything around me was closing in, getting darker and darker and darker...

Then the words I dreaded to hear, the words that stuck in my heart like a knife, the words that meant I was still going to suffer and my soul to be tormented were:

" Lori, don't worry you're going to be fine, your at QueensCross Hospital"
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