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*contains mature content*
With the sharpener blade between my fingers, I am trying to push the flashbacks aside, my mind keeps telling me “do it”, but my subconscious is screaming “What are you doing, Jemima?” These two powers in my head are up on war and I need to listen to none of them and complete the mission that I had in mind when I came in here. Sitting on the toilet seat of my washroom, I am staring at the left wrist I have drawn in-front of me and my right hand holding a blade, ready to pierce the flesh. I don’t spare myself another thought and even though the blade stings, I don’t feel so much pain. I push it deeper, and I want to scream but I press my lips together for keeping myself from it. Tears start to stream down my face, its beyond painful now, but the pain coursing through my body makes me want to do it again, my heart is throbbing and I can hear it in my ears, everything linked to this feels good but I am dying. The blade drops from my hand and I look down at my blood stained hands, so much red makes my head spin, the squares on the white washroom wall double in number, I feel lightheaded and the smell of blood burning down my esophagus makes me gag. Another spin and I feel my head hit the ground, it’s like someone banging me hard on my head. Black spots appear and I drift away.
