Walking through Pain

Its a story about a 15 year old girl called Luna Jones. She lives woth her mother and brother Blake. She self harms and refuses to eat because she thinks she is fat. This is her story about recovering.

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1. Pain

I sigh and put the picture down. Its a picture of me and my best friend Jessica when we were 5 years old. I was skinny then. Fit too. I played vollyball. But now was different. I'm fat and not fit. I don't know what changed. After i mpved town I started gaining weight. I was still fit back then because i did vollyball. That was the past.

 

"Luna, dinner time," my mum, Susan yelled. I finally smell the food. It smells disgusting. I sit down at the table and sigh. Dinner tonight is noodles. They look like worns in sause. I push my plate away from myself. "Luna dear please. You have to eat something. Your becomming to skinny," mum says. I groan. I hate it when she says I am skinny. Can't she see the fat all over my body. "No thanks. Not hungry." I leave the table, and the sad looks on my mum and brothers face. My brother is called Blake.   I go to my room and pull my sleeve up. There were dozens of scars and healing cuts on my arm. I get my pocket knife from under my pillow and open it. I press it to my skin, nearly moaning as I pull it across my skin drawing blood. I make a few more cuts before going to my bathroom. I put my arm under a running tap. It stings but it will help clean them out. After i dry my arm i wrap a bandage around it, then walk back to my room. This has been my habbit for the last three months. Not eat dinner then cut. I cut because of my dad. He was murder in front of my face.

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