Path To Hell

Chelsea thought ther life was horrible, voilent, the worst. Everyone at school called her a freak, her parents thought that she was the worst thing that ever happened to them. But she had never known hell untill now...


3. Wounds

I ran to my room and locked the door. I had my back to the door, listening for someone to come running up the stairs after me. But there was nothing, only the sound of my own heart beating. I slid to the floor and let out a sigh of relief, I had gotten of extremely lightly this time. But only this time.

After a few minutes of waiting for my door to break down on top of me I walked over to my desk. What was left of a desk. I ran my hand under the smooth wood sruface searching. My hand came acroos the selotape and I ripped it off. Into my hand feel tweesers, cotton wool, some water and a pocket knife. All for moments like these. I dragged my bin over to where I was sitting on the edge of my bed and began. It was slow and painful but neccessary, dropping the bits in the bin as I went. The was so much glass in all of skin right now, I knew that it would scar for a few days. After al of the glass was out, I think, I washed my arms with the water bottle and some cotton wool slowly clearing all of the dried blood. What did I do to deserve this?

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