Categories > Original > Drama > She Was Bulletproof, Until You Shot Her Down
She Was Bulletproof, Until You Shot Her Down
0 reviewsA young girl trapped in a world of depression - Prologue
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This is a story I already have a few chapters written of and I'm really enjoying writing so I thought I'd upload it to here.
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Prologue
Sat on the edge. A noose around my neck. A hand full of pills. A blade in my hand. Each time I imagined –planned my suicide it was different , yet so detailed. Would I leave a note? Make a video? Or just do it? Day or night ? At home or somewhere else? These questions ran through my head every day. I could do it now. Just go get some pills ,lock my bedroom door and swallow. So peaceful ,like sleeping. No more pain , no more tears , no more cuts.
I stroked along my arm , I could feel every cut , every scar, every painful memory . Old and new. Some deep ,some not , each filled with sorrow and self loathing. I could feel the fat sizzling under my skin , I rose from were I was sitting on the bed to face my mirror. I lifted my top up and began poking and prodding at my stomach. I was huge. I was ugly. I was disgusting.
I looked pregnant , my huge belly sticking out , covered it stretch marks and scars. My thighs wobbling as I stepped ,my steps practically making the floor shake. I even had fat hands , how was that even possible? Fat Hands!
I slid down to the floor ,my back against the door. I just wanted to be pretty , to be thin , to be good enough.
__________________________
Prologue
Sat on the edge. A noose around my neck. A hand full of pills. A blade in my hand. Each time I imagined –planned my suicide it was different , yet so detailed. Would I leave a note? Make a video? Or just do it? Day or night ? At home or somewhere else? These questions ran through my head every day. I could do it now. Just go get some pills ,lock my bedroom door and swallow. So peaceful ,like sleeping. No more pain , no more tears , no more cuts.
I stroked along my arm , I could feel every cut , every scar, every painful memory . Old and new. Some deep ,some not , each filled with sorrow and self loathing. I could feel the fat sizzling under my skin , I rose from were I was sitting on the bed to face my mirror. I lifted my top up and began poking and prodding at my stomach. I was huge. I was ugly. I was disgusting.
I looked pregnant , my huge belly sticking out , covered it stretch marks and scars. My thighs wobbling as I stepped ,my steps practically making the floor shake. I even had fat hands , how was that even possible? Fat Hands!
I slid down to the floor ,my back against the door. I just wanted to be pretty , to be thin , to be good enough.
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