Loving You

Darcy is 17 years old. Her father went to prison when she was 7, only to be left with her abusive mother. Who was always drunk. What will happen when she meets one of the boys from one direction?

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         As I open my locker notes come filing out. Every year, on my birthday, people give me notes. Not nice ones. I look at the paper filled floor tears starting to fill my eyes. On every note it read 'dear darcy'. I quietly held back my tears and put every single note in the trash. People were staring but I dont care. I close my locker and leave the school. (Hi Im Darcy. Im seventeen and gonna be eighteen in 5 months! I have dark brown hair with a bit of highlights. Im about normal size normal height) Home isnt much better but at least I get privacy. My dad went to prison when I was 7 and my mom has been drinking ever since. Always coming home with a different man every night if she does come home. I just cant wait to turn eighteen so I can finally leave this hell whole. I just wish that everything was different.

           I walked in the house to see the usual scene. Every table filled with bear bottles and cigarette packets. I ran up the stairs and quickly shut my door. Alone at last. I quickly scrambled to the bathroom in need for my razors. YES! Same place they were before. I took the razor too my wrist and slid it across. Blood quickly ran down my arm. Heres one for being fat. I cut again. Heres another for being ugly. One for being worthless. One for be-AHHH!!! I looked down to see too much blood pouring out. Immeadiatly knowing that I went wayyyyyyy to deep. Should I go to the hospital? If I didnt I could finally end my life. Get it over with......NO! Darcy you are gonna go to the hospital and you will be okay.

         I quickly grabbed a bandaid to keep over for now. I grab my jacket and run out the door and run for the hospital. Running down the street, I passed the park and my running started to slow. I looked down and I looked like a murder scene. Blood all over me. I started to black out and fell to the ground. The last thing I saw was a blonde boy looking over me. He was saying something but all I could hear was a ringing in my ear. Is this what dying was like?

"Stay with me please!" I heard an irish accent say. That was the last thing I heard before blacking out.

 

 

 

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