My life was pitch black until I was 17, my parents were fighting over and over again. And then... I was... thirteen I think. My mom kept on telling me that I am just an eyesore and should just go away or die. She was angry and frustrated but those words were just too much. So I ran away, crying. It was winter so it was really cold outside, and I decided to go into forest and then freeze to death there. Nice plan, eh?
Well I spent almost 2 hours lying under some big tree and thinking that I`m not even brave enough to die. I was in this forest carrying my schoolbag and there was a razor. Due to anger I hurt myself with it and then I felt at peace. Still don`t know why. And all bad things are just started to fade away. Pain was refreshing, thanks to pain I knew that I was alive.
So in the end I didn`t die there - as you can see now. But still, whenever I feel confused I always cut myself and then there is always peace. I just need more and more. Can`t stop myself, really. Can`t talk to my friends about something like that. Wondering why am I doing it and still doing it. It`s cold outside half a year so I don`t mind wearing something like roll-neck sweater, but still... still it`s scary looking at my arms and legs sometimes.