Feeling Payne

I'm Kasey. Even though i don't want to be anymore. I tried to stop, but it was to painful not to do it. I cant handle it anymore, i just want to get it over with so no one could ever hurt me again, never ever again. One cut is all i will need to end this hopeless life I'm living. But just as the tiny blade was about pierce my pail skin, i heard a deep voice ring in my ears,"Kasey, stop. You mustn't sacrifice what you don't have. My child, you are far from your time to leave this earth, i have greater plans for you." Could that have been God? I have been a Christian for sometime before, but i lost God a long time ago, so why now? What was his greater plans for me? I didn't have time to look for the answers, because my mom had just walked right into my room, gasping, eyes wide, looking straight at the blade in my right hand. . . (Note: in this story Liam Payne doesn't do the things i say hee does in real life.)

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1. One

I always thought nobody gave a damn about me, i mean my mom never noticed and my dad was never ther. So i tried my best not to let myself drift off to an abandond island, but my problems would keep blowing me back in that direction. After my mom disowned me, my friends leaving me, boys who crushed my heart to pieces, and being alone for far too long, i decided enough was enough. 

I tried running away, but that just made my mom crazy mad, eventually i pushed her away, far away. I tried to trust my friends again, but some people dont deserve a third chance. I tried to get by on my own without needing anyone, but still, i felt emptyness growing bigger in the core of my heart, and one day i just gave up, realizing that that void could never be filled enough. All that fighting for nothing. Pretty much, giving up was the only way to go. 

I began self-harming myself, feeling as if it lifted my problems away on the tips of iron liguid that dripped down my arm every night. I felt free after releasing all the pain from my body as if it never happened each night. A lot of my "friends" used to cut themselves, telling me about how much better it made them feel, now i know. But i couldnt stop, i began cuting twice a day, and the desire only came back stronger than before.

So here i am, sitting on a cold, white chair, in a cold, white waiting room, waiting around for who knows what. My mom walks back towards me , telling me all the reasonwhy she had to miss work, all of which were me. I cant take it anymore,  she constantly bullies me, so i do the only thing i can lately. I pull up the sleeves of my shirt and place the bade on my pale cut up arm. When she finally looks my way to yell something in my face, she abruptly stops, looking straight through me with hatred in her eyes, challenging me to do it. But just when i was about to pierce the pain away, the door to the waiting room swung open. 

I tensed up thinking it was the doctors coming to pull me away from myself, not letting me release this growing black bubble in my stomach. But was surprised when instead i heard two deep voices cursing and yelling at eachother down the hallway. I froze as i say a young boy maybe 17 around my age, eyes wide in fury, yelling at an older man about my moms age, who im guessing was his dad.

"I dont need you, mom, or anybody's help! Im perfectly fine on my own. Why cant you get that through your thick skull!" He had a deep accent when he spoke that made my scarred arms get goosbumps.

"We both know you're going to end up dead if you keep this up! God! Maybe it would be best if you just get it over with already. Then we'd both be happy!" Man his dad is horrible, reminds me of someone i know.

"Yeah, you would like that wouldn't you! Just another reason to do it even more, huh? Well, have you ever thought i would just turn the tables and make you my cutting board?!" Wow, this kid must have gone through a lot!

But just as he said it the older man went silent, seeming not to know how to talk. The boy walked to the other side of the room and sat in one of the identical rows of cold, white chairs with his head in his hands. I was just wondering why he was here when i saw all the bloody scars on his arms. But why would a guy with beautiful peach lips, sandy brown hair, handsom hazel brown eyes, and a nice strong buid feel the need to cut himself, i mean every girl must be throwing themselves at him every second.

but it wasnt soon enough, before he caught me starring at him. I watched his eyes moove back and forth between each of my blue eyes, searching, trying to find out how much i heard. Soon enough his eyes slowly dropped from my eyes. Great! Now hes going to stare at my boobs. But his eyes stopped on my arm, then i realized i still had the blade in my arm, quickly i remooved it and dug it deep into my jacket pocket, rolled down my sleeve, and looked away at one of the "Dont give up hope" posters.

But my six sense comfirmed my thoughts. He was still starring blankly at my arm.

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