Once upon a time, in a land far far away, their was a little girl. She wasn't exactly little on the outside, she was 19 and held a steady job and had great family ties. But inside was a little girl.
The little girl was very happy because she got an apartment and was allowed to decorate any way she desired.
She didn't decorate as she desired, she wanted black and blood red for colours but that was just not something little girls thgouht of... blood....
So she smiled anyway, tilted her head, batted her eyes and acted dumb for everyone to be amused.
She was not happy.
She was lonely.
Although she had many friends, the little girl could not bear to be alone, in her new place while her step-dad worked at night. And she couldn't bear being the little toy that amused her friends so much. The hassle of doing what everyone else wanted to please them..... WHATEVER they wanted....
And so the little girl took a knife from the kitchen and sat on her living room floor.
It didn't hurt the little girl to feel the knife cut open her tiny wrists and let gush out her blood. She had already become so numb from the pain of everyday life that a cut on her wrist was no more pain than a paper cut.
She didn't cry as she watched the blood rundown her hands, onto her her dress and so through onto her thighs. She knew she would be happy, she wouldn't be alone anymore. She would just not BE anymore....
no, i'm not going to commit suicide, don't even comment on me committing suicide, please.
The little girl was very happy because she got an apartment and was allowed to decorate any way she desired.
She didn't decorate as she desired, she wanted black and blood red for colours but that was just not something little girls thgouht of... blood....
So she smiled anyway, tilted her head, batted her eyes and acted dumb for everyone to be amused.
She was not happy.
She was lonely.
Although she had many friends, the little girl could not bear to be alone, in her new place while her step-dad worked at night. And she couldn't bear being the little toy that amused her friends so much. The hassle of doing what everyone else wanted to please them..... WHATEVER they wanted....
And so the little girl took a knife from the kitchen and sat on her living room floor.
It didn't hurt the little girl to feel the knife cut open her tiny wrists and let gush out her blood. She had already become so numb from the pain of everyday life that a cut on her wrist was no more pain than a paper cut.
She didn't cry as she watched the blood rundown her hands, onto her her dress and so through onto her thighs. She knew she would be happy, she wouldn't be alone anymore. She would just not BE anymore....
no, i'm not going to commit suicide, don't even comment on me committing suicide, please.