Copyright, Hillary

“Why” you ask. “What is the reasoning behind this? Do you think it’s OK to harm yourself like this?” “Harm? So is that what you call it? You don’t understand. The sweet sensation of pain. It takes away all other troubles. It’s all you feel. Pain. Then numbness. It’s the one way to tell that you’re really alive. The deep cuts. The scars. The bruises and the burns. Seem to make it all better. It’ll take away all worries and fears. All you focus on is the sweet sensation. The tingling then the numbness. Ah, how the cuts help. So now do you understand my reasoning.? Why i ‘harm’ myself? I don’t harm myself. I save myself. I save myself from this world. And from you. So now do you understand my reasoning?”

Save Me!

Copyright, Hillary

Save me! Can’t you hear me crying for help! I need you to hear me. Before it’s to late. I can’t take it. I’m on the edge. With a razor blade in my hand I scream for help. Nobody comes to help. I press the sharpened blade to the vein of my wrist and scream again. But like before, no answer. I press harder. Yet another scream escapes my bruised lips. No reply. I drag the blade up my arm. Why didn’t you try? You didn’t care. I just wanted help. But you never came when I cried out for help. Please let me be saved…

My Story

Copyright, Hillary

Dear anyone who cares,

I’m now fourteen. I’ve been cutting for about three years. But that’s just cutting. I used to burn myself, bruise and even choke. I guess everything got worse each time. I don’t know why I started. I just kinda did. My family life was pretty normal. No abuse or anything. I wasn’t very close to anyone and I don’t remeber ever being all that happy. I’ve been cutting, I mean I have new cuts from yesterday. I want to stop but don’t know how…

a desperate teen named Hillary


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