myshet

The Inner Conflict. **Trigger Warning**

Keyah awoke, looking across her room to the clock. She was restless, irritable, and somewhat numb, heading to the bathroom, she stumbled over her own feet.

“Bitch.” she muttered.

Finally reaching the bathroom door, she paused. Her eyes blinking, she began to tremble. An ear piercing sound hit the walls around her, how didn’t it wake anyone else? She set her shaking hand on the doorknob, grasped and twisted it, slightly pushing the door open. A constant cold drift weeping through the weeny gap, made her trembles worse.

Within seconds, her head began to spin, this draft; enclosing on her, capturing her.. This… formation, entering her soul, her memory returning.

Keyah’s eyes became tears of pain, as from them fell tiny droplets of sparkling water, splashing onto the floor. She dropped to her knees, bowing her head, allowing her hair to fall forward, over her face, where she cradled it with her hands.

Each memory; That time she said she hated her brother, the morning she tried running away, those nights she took too many pills, the days where she hated everything, so much more, all mashing themselves together. She remembered now why she felt so numb, so irritable. She remembered the reason why she stopped talking as much, why she stays up most nights and sleeps throughout most days, she remembered why she stopped eating, why she had these marks on her body. The memories, she now remembered why she was in “therapy,” why she felt so down. Why she wanted to leave everything behind. She remembered. She still feels that way..

“Fucking asshole, why didn’t those pills work? You’re just a hinder, get it done with, that’s right. Go kill yourself, you’re better off dead. You’re nothing but a worthless piece of shit, but even there, shit is better than you. Leave, get gone. You’re a waste of space, nothing but a manic depressed, self hating, broken little girl. Who cares about you? About your feelings? No one. Yeah, fucker. That’s right, no one. Not even me.”

As Keyah’s eyes began to go bloodshot.

“What friends do you have? None, not a single one. They say they’re friends, they’re really not. They want to get to know you, so they know your weaknesses, and turn them against you later.”

Keyah dug her nails into her scalp, digging right beneath the hair foliage, and pulled, pulled until her hair, until the skin came out, came off.

“Ugly, fat, worthless, pointless, waste of space, mistake, unloved, depressed, emo… These are only a few words that describe you. You’ve been like this all your life, you were never a happy child. You have no point here, you deserve to die. Unlike all the other children out there, you’re different. You need to die, nothing more but die. That’s right little girl, that’s right. You pathetic failure, you get up off your knees, and go get that gun, that’s it, go do it. Grasp it in your weak, pale hands, say ‘good bye’, and do it. Open your mouth, and set it inside, pull that trigger little girl, get it done with. Happiness will overwhelm the world, your death will please a person like a new toy pleases a young child. Go do it…”

~Written by me. Kellie-Leanne B.

“Hair - Matted.

Lipstick - Smeared.

Eyes - Black from running mascara.

Clothes - Stained and wrinkled.

Head - Hung in shame.

Dignity - Lost.”