trigger warning ⚠️

ONE MONTH LATER

Having a friend is fun. Having a friend is amazing.

You don't realize how good something is until it's gone.

Marcus is an asshole.

I knew there was a reason I don't like bad boys.

He and his friends have bullied me since that day. Even some other randoms from around Bolding High School have been picking on me.

Everyone knows all my secrets.

I cannot remember one day this month where I didn't cut. I've been cutting everyday. An average day this month, was hell.

FLASHBACK, March 15th:

I enter the school and once again, everyone stares at me. Marcus and his friends are in the corner near the lockers watching my every move.

James, Jackson, and Marcus walk up to me.

"Oh look it's the crazy girl."

I stay silent and go to my locker.

"No wonder you won't let anyone close to you, you're so sick in your head it's probably contagious." Marcus spits.

None of these remarks are new.

At my locker, two blonde girls approach me.

"Hm, lets play a game. I like to call it, guess how Brianna's day goes."

The other girl laughs.

"Go to school, go home, drink blood like an effing vampire, act depressed, and then pretend to self harm."

When Marcus yelled out that I'm addicted to blood, everyone assumed it was in a vampire way. I didn't bother trying to correct them.

Her giggling attitude changes to pure anger.

"Some people are actually depressed, you can't just pretend and expect to get pity. It would've done the world a great sensation if you would just kill yourself." She says.

My heart beat slows only a little bit as she walks away. I spent most of the school day in the bathroom, cutting. Meaning that, my grades dropped.

Everyday I came home, there was a beating waiting for me. My father says it's for being "dumb".

He started drinking more.

"Tell me you brought those damned grades up."

I bite my lip, spotting the belt in his hand.

He usually resorted to the nearest object and his hands, but all of a sudden he uses belts, sticks, switches, anything and everything.

"Go get your ass changed and be down here." He says.

I run upstairs and lock my bedroom door. I'd been cutting my arms and stomach and back all month, never my legs because he takes off my pants when he gives me a beating.

I change into sweatpants and a hoodie.

I decide to try to run away from home now and never come back. I grab a backpack and throw some clothes and other stuff in there. I throw it on my back, and dart out the window. Yes, I jumped out my window. It's high, but it won't kill me. Or injure me severely.

I walk out towards my yard but my dad runs out and grabs me.

He drags me back inside, ties my hands together over my stomach, takes off my pants, and hits me hard with the belt multiple times.

When he is done, he doesn't bother to untie me, and I'm too weak to get up.

That was the day I planned my death.

———————————

Back to the present:

Today is March 28th.

My dad cancelled my therapy. He convinced them that he was going to put me with a different company. Lies. My medicines still come though.

I said my goodbyes to Cassie and it felt a lot more sad than i thought. Cassie is the only person who I ever felt cared about me in the slightest. She reminded me of my mom. Except she reeked of hospital.

Everyone at school hates me. Some people keep to theirselves, but most of the popular kids hate me. I refuse to speak in class and do group work. But the play was something that I had every intention on continuing.

Today when I walked into the school, people laughed and picked on me, as usual. Once I got to clubs, I bumped into a gorgeous dark skin girl.

"Sorry." I mutter.

She grabs my shoulder.

"So you're the girl everyone is talking about." She says.

I try to shove past her but she grabs my shoulders.

"Sorry- no- I didn't mean it like that." She practically yells frantically.

I stare at her.

"My name is Kayla, and..well..I just..I know I don't know you but I want to be your friend." She says.

"Like, actually? Or is this a joke?" I ask, being cautious of my surroundings, trying to see if someone is recording.

"It's not a joke, I swear. Want to come over to my house later?" She asks.

Hopefully she is an axe murderer and will end my suffering.

With that thought in my head, I agree.

We are told our costumes for the play. I have a school uniform and a winter outfit.

Kayla talked to me the whole time.

When it was time to go home, I walked to her house.

I'd get a worse beating from my father, but I don't care. I give up.

She has a small house that's on the more poor side of SF. I live in the average part.

We enter and I immediately take back what I said about her house being small. It had a spacious living room, a small dining room with a small chandelier that I would probably hit my head on because I'm 5'6, and a tiny bit homey kitchen. She had a small hallway with 3 bedrooms. Her parents, hers, and an extra.

"My parents are both at work, but they won't mind you being here." She says.

I smile at her, weakly.

"What do you want to eat?" She asks.

"I'm not hungry.." I say.

Truth is, I'm super hungry. I haven't eaten in weeks. I've drank water, but no food.

She walks up to me. I almost think she's going to hit me. Even though she's only 5'2, I begin to feel extremely intimidated.

"You are going to eat something! I can tell you're hungry!" She yells.

At that point, her expression returns soft and I burst out in tears.

For some reason, I tell her everything. She responded as if she already knew.

"Wanna know why I befriended you?" She asks, and my heart drops.

I gulp.

She smiles.

"Because..of this."

When I told her I cut, I referred to it as drawing on my wrists.

"I draw too." She whispers, rolling up the sleeves of her oversized pastel blue sweater.

My death day was my birthday. My birthday is April 17th. I am moving out on my birthday. My dad agreed to it. It was his idea.

I was going to commit suicide as soon as I found a hotel to stay in until I graduate.

I told Kayla about my cutting, my PTSD, blood addiction, my mother's death, my depression, my anxiety, etcetera.

My death day is probably the only thing I didn't tell her about. Also about my dad.

She was very understanding about the whole thing.

After 30 seconds of silence, she grabs my arm.

"Can I see yours?" She asks quietly.

I jerk my arm away.

"I'm not- comfortable with that-" I stutter.

"It's fine, I don't have to see them." She says, smiling.

"Now, you ARE eating. And you ARE spending the night." She says.

"But my dad..." I say.

"F him." She says, smirking.

I fake laugh, knowing that when I return home tomorrow night, I'm going to get an ass whooping.

Why tomorrow night? Because, I'm spending the night tonight, and then the play is after school tomorrow, and then I go to an after party, then I go home.

Thats the game plan.

April 17th is game over. None of this shit will matter anymore.

This pointless life won't matter anymore.

What am I saying?

It never did matter.

After all, we were all born to die.

LOVE YHU 💕