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The sound of glass breaking and the faint music floating around the room wakes me up from sleep, I did not know that overcame. I get back on to my feet and walk out of the room to meet with complete silence. was It just a dream?

I wished it was when I saw blood and pieces of glass all over the kitchen floor. Then I saw my mother sitting on the floor with a newly opened vodka bottle, blood dripping from her wrists and tears flowing down her cheeks.

Ever since last year, my mother had appeared to be weak and fragile. But this is the weakest I have seeing her ever since. She looks like she just heard a gunshot, she looks like she heard the doctor say 'im sorry, she didn't make it', she looks like she just buried her child but most of all she looks like her high school sweetheart and her so-called husband just asked for a divorce in a time she needed him the most. I know she looks like that because I have seen her go through all of it.

"Mom," I say almost in a whisper hoping to get her attention away from the blank wall that held nothing but one single photo frame.

Our family picture.

A picture of me, my father, my mother, my elder brother Noah, my younger brother Jared and my younger sister Nini. A picture of one perfectly happy family.

I felt tears collecting in my eyes and I whisper an 'i'm sorry ' to myself. I look away from the photo frame and looked back at my mother who is still staring at her happy family.

"Mother?" I speak again, a little bit louder.

"Don't you dare call me 'mother'," She said looking away from the picture and gulping down the alcohol.

"We need to cover up your wound. you are losing way too much blood mo-" I stop myself from speaking and slowly walked towards her through the brocked glasses on the floor.

I bend down to the floor next to her and take the bleeding hand in mine. She pushes her hand away from mine and stared right into my eyes. The words she spoke next are nothing new but that's what hurts me the most and I know I fucking deserve it.

"You were supposed to die. Both of the times" she said with gritted teeth and walked away up the stairs into her room.

Those words.

Those two sentences. ringed through my head causing so much pain.

"You think I don't know that mother," I said to myself.

It was supposed to be me. I was the one who was supposed to die. The gunshot sound was supposed to be me pulling the trigger or maybe even it was supposed to be me who the doctors were talking about. I was the one who is supposed to be six feet under.

I know that more than anyone does. And I say that to myself every single day. Every single day I live with that pain. But hearing my own mother say that, twists and pushes the knife deeper and deeper.

I sit on the floor and stare at my wrist.

I couldn't stop myself from picking up a piece of glass and bringing it to my wrist.

What are you doing Rhea?

control yourself

don't use that piece of glass

DO NOT CUT YOURSELF!

I can't stop. I can't control it myself.

It hurts. But it feels good that you are physically hurting than mentally.

I drop the broken glass and let the blood drip from my wrists.

I close my eyes and pulled my knees up to my chest hugging it I feel the pain spreading through my whole hand.

I've never done that before. I never physically harmed myself. But damn did it felt good. I know that wasn't the right thing to do but I couldn't take the pain and the heaviness in my heart anymore. I know that one wrong cut could drain your body to death. And I can not die. I'm not going to kill myself. I won't do that.

***

I sit at that exam same position for God knows how long until I felt my butt cheeks hurting. The blood on my wrist is dried now and I don't feel any pain. No, not even mental pain. I just feel numb.

I stood up from the seated position on the floor and started cleaning up the mess my mother had made. I cleaned. for some reason I found myself cleaning the whole kitchen and the entire down floor including the porch upfront. I was never a clean freak or anything but for some reason the mess the house had been in annoyed the shit out of me.

At around ten-thirty pm I was done, I went and stood at the exact same place I was seated in a few hours ago. I saw the photo frame that was hung on the wall. I stare at it for a few minutes, walked towards the wall, and removed the photo frame. I didn't know what to do with it but I knew it can not be seeing inside of this house. It's way too painful.

I walk into the garage through the backdoor and found some boxes that still haven't been organized. 'These boxes won't be getting out of here for a long time' I thought to myself and put the photo frame inside the first box I could get my hand on. But something caught my attention; it was a polaroid picture.

A picture of me, Jason, Nina, and Joshua. we were all wearing black and we were at a cemetery, near Zack Hunter's grave. This picture was taken few days after he passed away and it was something he always wanted. Zack wanted a polaroid picture with his friends but he never got the chance to. It hurts that he was dead but we knew he'd be happy either way. I look at all our faces, wearing smiles that hide the true pain. I knew that out of all of us Jason was the most hurt because that was his childhood best friend who was now six feet under.

Something about this polaroid picture that I'm looking into lifts some of the pain that I've been holding. I wished I could go back in time and relive those memories that I had with these amazing people. I didn't have any friends until I was fifteen. When I went to Jason for weed and drugs I automatically clicked with his other friends who's Nina and Joshua. I was most close with Nina; she was like a best friend to me. We started hanging out more and when she came over to my house I think my sister was more excited to see her more than I was because their names matched a little, my sister was Nini and she was Nina. Nini was just five years old and I knew she considered Nina more of an elder sister to her than I was. Maybe it's because I was never really close with her. I wasn't close with anyone. at home, I was a closed-up person and that's maybe why no one really cared if I was existing or not. After Nini died and when I opened up to Nina about her death and what had happened. She thought I was a monster just the way my parents did. She said she couldn't be my friend anymore and one good thing about that was it made things a lot easier for me when I decided to let go of everything related to home and move states with my mother.

I take the polaroid in my hand walked back inside to my room.

A/N - THIS CHAPTER CONTAINED SOME DEEP INFORMATION. I WASNT PROUD WRITING ABOUT IT BUT I KNOW I HAD TO. THIS BOOK BY ANY MEANS SUPPORT SELF-HARM. IF YOU EVER GET THE URGE TO HARM YOURSELF WHEN GOING THROUGH PAIN, FIGHT IT! PLEASE FIGHT IT AND I KNOW YOU CAN. I COULD SAY I'M LIVING PROOF TO JUSTIFY THAT STATEMENT.

HARMING YOURSELF DOES NOT END YOUR PAIN. KILLING YOURSELF DOES NOT END YOUR PAIN IT JUST PASSES IT ON TO SOMEONE ELSE. SO PLEASE THINK TWICE AND THINK HARD BEFORE YOU MAKE A DECISION CAUSE TRUST ME IT GETS BETTER. LOSING YOUR LIFE IS NOT WORTHIT.

THANK YOU FOR READING

-PEACE