The Nothingness Inside

Copyright, Rosanna

Listen to them. Arguing. About me. I can’t stand it. She sticks up for me, but he hates me. Well good, I hate him too. He isn’t even my father. And he thinks he’s a fucking parent. Two-faced bastard. Fuck him. I can’t take it any more. So I go upstairs, get the razor and dim the lights. I press the blade against my skin. Swipe it slowly. I watch the blood crawl down my arm. Well, there goes another battle… lost. As I fight this war all by myself. Against myelf. Why am I the only person in this family that is the closest thing to normal? Yet I am so far away from being normal.

So as the blood drips out, I am now trapped in this new world of evil. A world where evil has never felt so good. I float on a black cloud. My bad memories gone for the moment. Yet a good one not to be found anywhere. As this feeling swallows me, I lose everything in that moment. I know what this is. It’s that big rush of excitement. I feel so good. The rush. It’s not a happy feeling, nor is it a happy feeling. It’s a feeling that can never be explained perfectly in words. And will only be known by the ones that have had the experience.

As I am lost in this world of the unknown excitement, my body loses control. When it’s all over with, I feel so damn guilty for doing it. Sorry for worrying people. So as time goes by I long for something. But I can’t tell what. I’m too occupied with myself. No one is there. I need something to make some noise before I go crazy. I hate the silence. I hate it because of what I hear in it. I turn on some music. I think to myself. At that moment I see again what I am longing for so badly. I need someone there. Not just anyone. I need someone to hold me. So that I can live for just a moment, someone to keep me sane for just a moment, to wake me from my eternal life of nightmares, to help me win this war I fight everyday against my own reflection, to release all the pain and hurt I have held inside for so long. Just for that moment. But that will never come for me. This picture inside my head, the most beautiful picture I have ever seen. Gothic love, will never reach this empty soul. The only thing I ever get from others is pain and torment.

What am I? A monster? Is this really one of Gods creations? I mean I love God and all. But this is what you call a fucking temple? This is not a temple. This is just a nothing. A worthless nothing. And inside, no life, just a lost soul. Trapped in a whirlwind of pain and sorrow. And no matter how many times I cut, no matter how many times I bleed out my blood, on the inside I will always bleed. And there will be no tourniquet.

So I just lay here. All that’s left of yesterday. It lays here. My pain is gone. But it will return. And then this battle will repeat itself and I will lose once again.

Part 2

Copyright, Rosanna

If no one knew anything about me let me tell you now. I’m thirteen years old, my birthday is May 20. I have an older sister who doesnt live with me and she’s a cutter too. My name is Rosanna. I live in Syracuse, NY. I want to be a psychologist when I get older. Well, that’s my backup plan. I really want to be in a rock band. I want to sing. The band’s name is “The Unloved”. I don’t have any equipment since I don’t have any money but I practice singing every day, and I almost went on American Idol but they said I had to be sixteen.

I’m a poet too. You can read some of my poems on here. I got invited to the International Society of Poets award ceramony thingy but it was too much money. Every poetry website I post my poetry on, I get a letter from them like a month later because my poem is in their final competition and they want my permission to put it in their books.

But enough of me bragging. About me and my “problem”. I started cutting in 7th grade, I can’t remember the first time I did it. But then I did it with knives so they weren’t that deep. I have discovered razors so now they have become very deep. In fact I just carved in the word “alone” in my left arm a couple of minutes ago. Now I feel really guilty for it because my brother is always trying to help me and now I have gone against him. I hate myself for doing it. I just couldnt take it. I have lost a lot of friends because of my SI’ing. And right now I’m in the process of getting used to not eating.

But for all you people out there who aren’t addicted, don’t start, it’s not something you can always be proud of. You can lose your friends. Everyone will think you’re crazy. Once you start, you can’t stop.

And if anyone wants to chat I will always listen. Everytime someone has a problem in my skool, the average of them come to me. They say it’s because I’m a person they can trust. Because I understand. I’m always interested in the subject.


Copyright, Rosanna

Let’s see, it first started when my mom was paying attention to my sister and her new boyfriend. That was about four or five years ago. Now my mom is moving out and I have chosen to stay with my grandmother. Even though this house is disgusting and I am the only one who knows how to take care of anything. My grandmother is fifty, and I am thirteen soon to be fourteen in May.

Yesterday was St. Patricks day, that was a very bad day for me. But I have someone who comes over every day to make it all better. Even though I don’t talk to him all the time, it doesn’t mean I have nothing to say. He knows me better than anyone else. I don’t have to mention his name, he knows who he is. I am fortunate to have him.

Right now I have about seventeen or eighteen fresh scars on my flesh. I hate my left arm, it’s so ugly compared to the right. And much more to come. I did it at first because of attention, or so I am led to believe. I have voices in my head that tell me this. But then I got addicted. It’s a coping skill for me. And I need to know that I am not dreaming a lot of the time. Lately I haven’t been feeling real. And one thing that caused me to do this to myself is that no guys think I’m pretty (except for you know who). I have had only two boyfriends in my life. The longest relationship lasted about two weeks and the shortest was two days. I have a low self-esteem, at least I can admit that, everything else people tell me I deny.

I try to write a lot of poetry to express myself. In fact if anyone wants to read some I have it featured on this site. I know a lot of people say this on here, but I want to let everyone know that if they need anyone to talk to I am here. I am always in the mood to talk about it. But that’s because it’s something I think about all the time. And even people I don’t like will come up to me and ask me for advice or just someone to talk to. They say I am a person they can trust because their other friends dont understand them. If I am not on at that moment then e-mail me and I will get back to you. And a word of advice to everyone: you can always pray because I’m sure that God may be able to understand you a little better than me. I will pray for all of you who need help finding happiness like me.


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