Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Suicide Awareness and Wattpad

Follow me on Wattpad: beautiful-souls

Newest Story: 
The Story of a Broken Butterfly

 Chapter One
All she felt was pain.
It wasn't easy to cover up, but somehow she did it; all the scars on her wrists were easily covered with foundation and other types of makeup.
The smile, really, was actually the hardest part to keep up. Every day she forced it onto her face, practicing in the mirror so nobody would be able to tell.
And nobody could, not Mel, her best friend, Luke, her almost sort-of boyfriend, or any of her family members. She was pretty sure they knew that she had kind of been on the downside lately, but never thought much of it, for she wasn't exactly an optimist.
Everything had started going downhill a few weeks ago as she had lost the championship game for her team and was completely being beat up about it.
She remembered the game very well.
Twelve seconds. They were down by two points. The ball was passed, flying through the air with an orange blur and hit her in the hands.
9 seconds.
She should have been able to catch it.
8 seconds.
She had caught plenty of balls before in her life, but somehow this one was different.
7 seconds.
The ball smacked her palm.
She tried, numbly, in vain, to catch it.
5.. 4...
The ball bounced.
The ball rolled out of bounds, to her absolute horror, as the buzzer ending the game sounded.
The other team was shouting and all of their fans swarmed onto the court and her team began to assemble and everyone was looking at her and all she could do was
The coach tried to tell her it wasn't her fault, and that he understood about her nervousness and didn't blame her for anything. The dirty looks cast around the room said otherwise.
That's when the name calling, gossiping, and laughing behind her back all started. All the girls from the basketball team that had been some of her best friends stopped sitting with her at lunch, stopped talking to her, and stopped inviting her to the gym on weekends.
They all just... stopped.
Weeks later, the papers were stuck to her locker. Things that said "Oops, it slipped" or "Captain Butterfingers Will Save Us." They all had the same bright red font, screaming at her even in the solitude of her bedroom.
When she closed her eyes, there it was.
The red.
When she went into the girl's bathroom to cry, there it was, circling around her eyes.
The red.
As her grades gradually started to go from straight A's to straight C's, circled at the top of her papers.
The red.
As one of the girls got in a fight with her at school over how she completely ruined the game for them. The sticky blood that flowed out of her nose, to her shock, as she held her hand up to her face.
The red.
As Luke told her he just wasn't feeling "it" anymore, and thought that they just needed to be friends. She stared at his shirt, trying not to cry.
The red.
After months and months, it was all she saw. Red. Red. Red. Red.
That was the last color she would ever see.

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