"Fuck." He whispers into my neck, sending a thrill of excitement through my body.
His lips still smothered kisses over my neck and his hands roamed my body, starting at my chest, going down to my stomach. Caressing my soft skin, his thumb trailed c...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
My last lesson was Biology. This is the one class that I'm failing because nothing makes sense. I don't know what possessed me to choose this subject for college.
"Aria." I hear the teacher call me, but I had zoned out and I couldn't remember the question that I was told to answer.
"Erm..." Situations like this cause a whole series of augmented chaos that starts spiralling in my head and that's when everything goes down hill. "I'm not sure." I quickly answer.
"Pay attention." Mr Hoskins replies, giving me a death stare from the front of the classroom.
I hear a snigger coming from the back of the classroom and I turn my head to see Laura devilishly smiling at me, sarcastically waving before carrying on with her quiet conversation.
I quickly snap my head back to the front when Mr Hoskins continues to talk about the principles of genetics.
As I walked out of the classroom, I made my way towards the school gates, ready to escape this dreadful place. My plan for today was to revise my lessons for tomorrow and then take a quick shower. Depending on my mood, I'll either order out or I'll cook something for myself.
My mood is significantly dropped when I see Laura and her friend, Eve, loitering near the gate, almost blocking my way out. I stop in my tracks, looking around to find another way out. When I don't find one, I brace myself and head towards the gate.
"Aria. Hey." Laura says, stepping closer to me. I look down, pulling my backpack more over my shoulders.
"Well, talk then." Eve scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Erm..." I answer, I could feel my head itching but I tried my hardest to ignore it.
Laura runs her fingers through her short, blonde hair before focusing back on me.
"I just wanted to say that you should really try harder in biology. If you weren't such a fucking nerd, I'd think that you were purposefully trying to single handedly ruin your already miserable fucking life."
I hate her. I hate her so much. I want to smash her head against a brick wall multiple times. But honestly, I'm too scared of the consequences.
"I just want to get past-" I try to say before I'm rudely interrupted.
"Listen up Pinocchio bitch, nothing about you is worth wasting breath on. You're just a whore who doesn't understand life. Go fucking kill yourself." There it is. She scoffs, causing me to finally look up.
That hurt. That really hurt. Deep inside of me, I could feel the pain and agony those few words brought me. With every word, every insult, every name I've been called, they are the reasons why I have the horrible thoughts. The horrible, distressing voice inside my head that tells me to do exactly what Laura told me to do.
Why does everything have to be so complicated? Why did I have to be one of the unlucky people who have to suffer with mental health problems? Why couldn't I have had the good genes? Why was I even born?
"Laura!" The same guy from before waves her over. Laura smiles and waves back before glaring at me and sassily walking away.
"Bitch." I muttered under my breath, dropping my head and finally walking out of the gate.
When I got home, the first thing I needed to do was take my medication. I know where my mind could take me if I didn't take one pill a day. As I walked into the kitchen, I threw my bag pack onto the white, linen sofa that stretched across the living room. The pills were in the drawer. Swallowing it without water is something that I shouldn't do, especially because it takes longer to work but I enjoy revelling in my anxiety.
The thought of overthinking everything and doubting everything I've ever done just brings me a sense of comfort. Knowing that I could never face people that I've embarrassed myself in front of or never being able to talk to someone the same way that I used to just proves to me how fucked up my life is. Anxiety is complete bullshit. It brings out the worse in people and makes sure that the entire world watches you breakdown and suffer. It also shows you that the world keeps on turning, even when your gone. Because the pain that you go through, the suffering, it's alright. As long as it's in silence and it's not affecting anybody else. Anxiety stops me from loving people, it's stops people from loving me and all I've ever wanted was someone to love me.
I've always known that's I've wanted a life filled with love- receiving it, giving it, surrounded by it. But I also know that the love I've found in my family isn't quite as satisfying as I'd like. It doesn't fill me up, make me whole or give me genuine happiness that is lasting.
Before I know it, I'm a mess, crying my eyes out on the floor of the kitchen. A scream escapes my throat, all the anger rushing out of my body before crawling it's way back in. I vigorously claw my fingers through my hair, creating a tangled mess. I stumble towards the counter on the far side of the kitchen and reach for the knife. I slide to the ground and hold my arm out in front of me, rolling up my sleeve. Slowly, I drag the knife across the length of my arms, leaving a trail of blood.
Go fucking kill yourself. Go fucking kill yourself. I kept replaying her words in my brain as I gritted my teeth and got through the pain. I threw the knife onto the ground before I got to my wrist, I'm not brave enough to take the next step.
I don't want to feel pain. I don't want to wake up every morning and instantly feel like shit. I don't want to think about how my life would have been different if my parents were around or if I wasn't so lonely. I don't want to wake up and dwell in my own agony and torment. I don't want to wake up and ache from all the crying and screaming. I don't want to wake up and... I don't want to wake up. I want to carry on dreaming about the perfect life. I don't want the thoughts to disappear.
I let my arm bleed out on the floor for a little while longer before I get up and get a bandage. My parents always kept a few 'just in case'. I always told them that I didn't need it, but in reality, I always need it. All the time. I grab a couple tissues and clean the excess blood off of my arm and I start slowly wrapping the bandage around my arms. I wince in pain as my skin tightens, but I pull through.
I decide to wash my hair quickly so that the sensation of itching it disappears.
After washing it, I wrap my hair in a white towel. I was tired. Too tired. Collapsing onto my bed, I close my eyes and fell asleep.
