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Hurricane Drunk

Page history last edited by Sweeten101 11 years, 3 months ago

No walls can keep me protected.

Emotions flood through me. I am overwhelmed. Where is the release I need? Where is the pooling red? The knife is in the trash. I promised to stop, yesterday. But, today?

I'm in the grip of a hurricane.

My head is spinning and my vision is blurry. I can't breathe. But suddenly, it stops.

I brace myself, because I know it's going to hurt.

I am numb again. The emotions have stopped. Is emptiness an emotion? I feel it, so it must be. And then, pain. Pain worse than I have ever felt before. It is in my chest, consuming me. How can I get rid of this pain? There is no hope for me anymore.

I've never felt so alive, and so dead.

What do I do? What's sharp? I know I should call someone, there is enough sense left in me to understand that. But I don't want to; I am past the point of being stopped. What is sharp? A razor. How do I take it apart? Pull it apart. Get the blades.

I'd like to think at least things can't get any worse.

One blade is jagged and sharp. It stabs me in the finger. Deep. Blood pools, and I begin to come to my senses. I finish my task, removing all three blades and throwing away the broken pieces of the razor and the jagged blade. I keep the other two.

You can't save me now, because I belong to the hurricane.

And then I stare. I made a promise. I can't let Sierra down, and she hasn't responded to my text. I don't know if I want to cut anymore. My finger hurts. All I feel is tired. I don't have the energy anymore to push a blade into my skin. I'm done. I sit on my bed and cry and wait for nothing.

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