Deathly Companion
Samantha
Ever heard of a companion? You must've. Just in case you haven't, a companion is something or someone who will stay by your side forever. My companion is my precious blade, which helped me overcome my anger, resentment, sadness and, well, basically it was my stress reliever. My deathly companion.
"One more cut, let out your anger. One more cut, let out your tears. One more cut, let out your screams. One more cut, make your heart lighter. And just one more cut, to feel better.", this is what my blade says to me. People may call me suicidal, but, I'm not. Cutting my self is a way to escape from all worries, not to kill myself.
I ran to my room in a hurry before my tears fell infront of my brother in order to not let him succeed with his evil intentions. I locked myself in my room, rummaged through my dresser drawers looking for my deadly companion. I couldn't find it... tears gushed down my face when I couldn't find my blade. My vision got blurry making it hard for me to see.
Finally, I found it. I didn't even wait and made my first cut of the day on my hand. It was deeper than how much I had intended to cut. Blood pooled up on my hand and flowed endlessly on my skin making its way to the bare floor. I cut and I cut and I cut until my blade said, "And just one more cut, to feel better." It indeed did feel much better.
I sat on my bed for a moment, tired of crying. I stared at my hand which had scars on it. Not one place was left out. Each spot was covered with scars. I felt bad torturing the skin God gave me. I felt like a jerk for hurting the body I was given. But I had no other way. No other way to comfort myself. No other way to let out my anger.
Just the blade.
I went to take a shower. The freshly cut scars stung so bad as the water had contact with my skin but I was used to it. I got out of the shower and changed into clothing with full sleeves. A white, button up shirt, blue jeans and converse shoes.
I did my signature light and natural makeup look next as I didn't want my friend to get suspicious while we shop. I don't wanna ruin girl's night which we worked so hard for considering the amount of pleading we had to do to our boss.
I was ready to forget everything that happened today. I got hold of my phone and purse to get out of this hell-house. I drove to my friend's houses to pick her up.
As soon as Emily got into the car, I moved forward to hug her but she said, "Hold the hug honey. Why are your eyes red and puffy?? Did something happen? Show me your hands right now Sam!"
"Emily-"
"Sam. Show me your HANDS!!", she yelled this time making me flinch.
I moved my hands forward. She held my wrist gently and tugged my sleeves upwards carefully to see the deep, red scars. She gasped as I saw tears forming in her eyes brimming to the edges.
"Sam...", her voice broke as tears fell from her beautiful, dark brown eyes.
To be continued...
Ever heard of a companion? You must've. Just in case you haven't, a companion is something or someone who will stay by your side forever. My companion is my precious blade, which helped me overcome my anger, resentment, sadness and, well, basically it was my stress reliever. My deathly companion.
"One more cut, let out your anger. One more cut, let out your tears. One more cut, let out your screams. One more cut, make your heart lighter. And just one more cut, to feel better.", this is what my blade says to me. People may call me suicidal, but, I'm not. Cutting my self is a way to escape from all worries, not to kill myself.
I ran to my room in a hurry before my tears fell infront of my brother in order to not let him succeed with his evil intentions. I locked myself in my room, rummaged through my dresser drawers looking for my deadly companion. I couldn't find it... tears gushed down my face when I couldn't find my blade. My vision got blurry making it hard for me to see.
Finally, I found it. I didn't even wait and made my first cut of the day on my hand. It was deeper than how much I had intended to cut. Blood pooled up on my hand and flowed endlessly on my skin making its way to the bare floor. I cut and I cut and I cut until my blade said, "And just one more cut, to feel better." It indeed did feel much better.
I sat on my bed for a moment, tired of crying. I stared at my hand which had scars on it. Not one place was left out. Each spot was covered with scars. I felt bad torturing the skin God gave me. I felt like a jerk for hurting the body I was given. But I had no other way. No other way to comfort myself. No other way to let out my anger.
Just the blade.
I went to take a shower. The freshly cut scars stung so bad as the water had contact with my skin but I was used to it. I got out of the shower and changed into clothing with full sleeves. A white, button up shirt, blue jeans and converse shoes.
I did my signature light and natural makeup look next as I didn't want my friend to get suspicious while we shop. I don't wanna ruin girl's night which we worked so hard for considering the amount of pleading we had to do to our boss.
I was ready to forget everything that happened today. I got hold of my phone and purse to get out of this hell-house. I drove to my friend's houses to pick her up.
As soon as Emily got into the car, I moved forward to hug her but she said, "Hold the hug honey. Why are your eyes red and puffy?? Did something happen? Show me your hands right now Sam!"
"Emily-"
"Sam. Show me your HANDS!!", she yelled this time making me flinch.
I moved my hands forward. She held my wrist gently and tugged my sleeves upwards carefully to see the deep, red scars. She gasped as I saw tears forming in her eyes brimming to the edges.
"Sam...", her voice broke as tears fell from her beautiful, dark brown eyes.
To be continued...
