I'm Still Breathing


3. Who Am I Living For?

I sat there, watching more and more blood trickle out of my system. I hate this. Why do most teenagers have to go through Depression? Is it a test to see if you're good enough for adulthood? Or that you can handle it? I don't know, but it's cruel. I don't know why, but I started thinking about my life. My crappy crappy life. I'm not over exaggerating when I say that, cause it's never been my way or anything good. Nothing has ever been to my advantage. My Mum died when I was five. My Dad didn't marry again, but he's got this really horrible girlfriend at the moment. And she treats me like scum, like I'm not worth anything. Well for her information, I'm Human. I have bloody emotions. Or did that just slip you small, pea sized brain. Probably didn't even get into her brain, too small to process more than sex, booze and make-up. I really do hate her.


It's not like I have any friends to turn to, they all deserted me a year back. And I was never told why, probably some really stupid petty reason, like I ignored them when they were talking or some shit like that. But anyway, I don't wallow in my past. Yes I might think about it once a while and complain about it, but I don't cry over it and wish it was different. There's no point in wishing for something that can't happen, that's just stupid.


I pulled the sleeve over my ribbon cut wrist and went into the kitchen. Not before taking a long deep breath, not wanting to inhale the toxic alcohol fumes that brew in the living room. Another thing I really hate, the smell of Alcohol, it's revolting. I walked quickly past the lounging couple in front of the T.v while rolling my eyes, trying to not to get seen. Oh I forgot that, she can only process four things in her mind, T.v, sex, booze and make-up, how could I forget that bloody television? I never dare even look at the thing. Once I was watching it for a change, my Dad came over, took the remote, and fucking slapped me. Saying something like, 'Who gave you permission to watch it?' and 'Who pays for the electric?' I cleaned it up a bit, it was filled with a load more swearing and other unwanted words. He doesn't even pay for the electric, that's what really burns me up. People who pay taxes do, cause he's 'unemployed.' Okay, there's a difference between unemployed and people who are too fucking lazy to get off their fat ass and go fill out a frigging job application!


I quickly stole an energy drink and shitty looking sandwich from the fridge, and ran to my room. Again, not wanting to be seen. I drink energy drinks way too much, but I don't really care. If I die right now, no-one would notice or care. But to be honest, if I had the strength to more than just cut my wrists. I'd end my life in a heartbeat.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...