Echoes of Angels

Copyright, Memorie

I started cutting at about fifteen. I saw a friend who had done a little bit; she said it gave her a rush. So I decided to try it. My friends got really mad. They said I should stop. So I started burning myself. That lasted for a couple of months. I remember sitting in the attic crying and cutting. I though I deserved it. My cuts started causing tension with friends, so I stopped for about a year.

My girlfriend was struggling with cutting and depression, so were many of my friends. I tried to get them to stop, but I couldn’t. That just made me feel even worse. I started cutting again. This time it was much worse. This time I cut deeper, and more frequently. I cleaned up the blood with an old shirt. I still have that, it’s more red than white.

My parents never helped. I was bullied in grade school. They never really gave me any advice that worked. I never had friends until I was a freshman. Just thinking about that makes me want to die. I no longer live with my parents. I moved out a week and a half ago, because we were fighting all the time.

Today I’m sixteen, turning seventeen in about a month. I haven’t cut in more than two weeks, but I want to. The urge is still there, I don’t think it’ll ever go away. Maybe I’ll end this all someday. I don’t know

If you want to contact me, e-mail me at and tell me you’re from


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