Cold

Hi everyone ! I just wanted to say I'm French and don't write too often in English so, sorry if the language and text isn't the best.

CHAPTER 1 : Lonely

I was alone, on my knees, holding my wrists. I had that thought in my mind since I woke up. I had to hurt myself. Since he left… Since he left, everything was different. Pain was strong. But I could not feel anything. How was that possible ? How could I feel everything and absolutely nothing at the very same time ? No tears had yet run on my cheeks. I could not cry. Somehow, I wish I did. Maybe I would feel less… empty. It felt as if my only option left was to die. I could feel my aching heart. Hours went by and I couldn't move. I was still there, alone in my room, holding my wrists, looking at them… I grabbed a cutter on my table. I had to do it. I needed to. But I couldn't do it on my wrists. Not yet. I had to punish myself, and it had to last longer than one day.

I stood up and took off my pants. It was gonna hurt I knew it would. But I had to. Holding the cutter, I got closer to my leg. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breathe. And I did it. My leg was bleeding and somehow it brought me some kind of relief. I did it. I was bleeding. I was alive. I was in pain.

The next day at work was pretty hard. My leg was killing me. My pants rubbing on some open cuts was almost as bad as cutting. All day long I had to pretend. I had that fake smile everyone takes for happiness and joy. If only they knew… They wouldn't believe the war I was having with myself every single seconds They wouldn't believe how destroyed I was. But no one cares enough to ever notice. No one cares until it is too late.

- Hey Abby ! What are you doing ?

John took me out of my thoughts.

- Nothing. I whispered.

- You okay ?

He looked at me and for a second I hoped someone would try. Try to save me.

- Yeah.

I lied.

- Great !

Of course he didn't notice. He was too busy. They're all too busy.

On my twenty minutes break I decided I wouldn't go to lunch. What was the point anyway.. Instead I just sat on a bench and smoked a cigarette. It's funny how they taste much better in those moments of deep sadness… This thought almost made me smile. Almost. John walked passed me, and stopped.

- You're coming to lunch with me ?

- No.. I'm not really hungry right now.

- Alright.

I wished he could see it. How dead I am inside.

But he just walked away. I took another cigarette before going back to work.

My stomach was hurting but I couldn't tell if I was starving or if sadness was causing it. I just wanted this day to end. I wanted this life to end.