Battle Scars

17 year old Emily Banks is bullied by everyone. Her family, her school, people online... They all hate her. She gets pushed against lockers, smacked, and kicked, and no one seems to care. Until, her bully starts to notice her scars, and her smile. Her beautiful smile, the one he has so ruthlessly taken away from her. Can Emily's bully save her, before it's too late?

*trigger warning*

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3. Chapter 3

I ran. I ran until I couldn't run anymore, and I was lucky because by that time, I had reached my house.

My house was not a home. It has never been one, and it never will be. My mother and father divorced when I was 13, after 12 years of my father physically abusing my mother. Neither of them ever really cared about me. I live with my mom, after a long lasting argument about who had to keep me, my mother finally caved.

I shove open the front door and kick off my shoes. My mom wasn't home, she was probably at work. Or wherever she goes when she tells me she's at work, I don't like to think about this stuff.

I angrily pad upstairs in my socks, and slam my door closed. I can't believe Ashton saw my scars. I've been keeping this secret for 7 years, and now it's all gone to waste. Hell, he'll tell everyone in school about it. I pick up one of my white throw pillows and sob into it.

After a straight hour of crying my heart out, I finally pull myself together. I reach for my phone, hoping to find some release in music, when I see my notifications have blown up again. My worst nightmare has come true.

@Lukehemmings : Cut deeper, Emily. We know your secret

@Cdizzlehood : Do you need some spare blades? I'll pick you up a pack of 20. That'll to the job. @Emilybanks96

@pokemonmichael : She's such a whore. Hope she dies soon.

@Ashtonirwin : I saw her cuts. That wasn't enough. Hope she makes more.

I can't believe it. Now everyone knows. My tear stained cheeks are now dripping wet. I drag myself into the bathroom, ready to do it. They all want me dead, why should I keep going?

I grab a fresh blade, extra sharp. I take off my black jeans, and roll up my sleeves. I drag the cool metal over my thighs, sighing at the relief I feel. I can't stand listening to the blade, I grab my phone and turn on my saddest playlist. Perfect by Simple Plan blares through my phone.

Now it's just too late, and we can't go back

I drag the blade over my thighs multiple times

I'm sorry I can't be, perfect

Blood runs from my thighs and pools on the floor. I smile to myself.

Nothing's gonna change the things that you said

I move to my wrists and start to reopen my old wounds, cutting deeper than I ever have before.

And nothing can make this right again

19, 20, 21,

Please don't turn your back

I slice my stomach a few times just for good measure. Blood is everywhere. I turn my blade vertical and end end it once and for all.

My eyelids begin to flutter, just as I hear a car pull up to my driveway weird, mom got her license taken away for DUI.

The room starts to spin, and I fall to the floor.

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