I slid the sharpened knife across my wrist for the last time. The wound was already infected and bruised from previous self harm, but this was the last. I was going to kill myself.
I dug it in deeper than normal, the pain was welcome. Blood began to appear, it dripped down my arm, staining my crisp white t shirt.
The flow became heavier, it was like all my emotional pain was pouring out through my blood. The names they called me, the things they threw at me, the threats they sent me.
A wave of nausea came over me. My head throbbed, my sight became impaired. The gloomy kitchen blurred before me as I fell onto the cold tiled floor.
I heard screams in the distance, “nooooooo!” they called out.
Everything went black.