[ WP ] The inner monologue of a suicidal man who has just been stabbed by a criminal and is slowly bleeding to death .

Is this it? My vision in fainting, my heart is going slower and slower. The times I've wanted this. How old was I when it first popped in my mind. Eight, probably. It was n't serious back then. My mom had taken my tv, and I just kept hitting my head against the wall, wanting to faint, but not being able to. I stopped, when my mother came in, and craddled her arms around me, and hold me tightly. I relaxed. And it was quiet. Of course I did n't want to die. I just wanted to make my mommy happy. 
 
 Am I gon na have any last words? I made them up when I was twelve, left again, betrayed again, by a girl I would say I loved. Not that I ever was lucky enough, to experience love for more than those few weeks, before she saw my true self. It happened like the snap of two fingers. Left. She stopped meeting me at our spot. The worst was that I had gotten used to not being alone. It should've been `` fuck you'' 
 
 The words I was never brave enough to say. I just could n't. Because I still loved her, I still had pictures of her in my room. I was imagining I was gon na snap. It still amazes me, that i never did. 
 
 But I was never the social kid, was I? They enjoyed teasing me for this, breaking me down bit by bit. It was like putting a mask on. Covering up every emotion with a big smile, that's so funny. 
 
 Suicidal. He heard the world, 16 years old. Her name was Clara, long brown hair, but do n't they all look like that. We were sitting on her couch, and I told her everything, tears down my cheeks. She just stared at me. I made her promise she was n't gon na tell, but she did. They all knew it the very next day. I was locked up. My razors were removed. The weird suicidal kid. They called me that. I cried so much. When I came out Clara had a new emo boy toy. I should've known. 
 
 I was never suicidal before that. I could n't seek out my mom, she was running around with different men, drinking at night. I wish I was eight, again. I wish the seed had only just been planted. I wish I had never kissed Clara that stupid night, wasted away everything. My dad was confused. He did n't know about mothers affairs. I never told him. Should have, but never did. 
 
 He found out though. I was counting down the days, to I could go to college. College was my escape. Even there I was the weirdo. College was definitely not the worst, because somehow I crossed paths with a girl named Sophie. She had blonde hair, up in a horsetail, usually. Still wore braces, and had toxic green eyes. She liked me. It was unusual for me, but she really liked me. We hung out all the time. 
 
 She liked me a little too much. 
 
 She stole my things. Little things, like my toothbrush at first. It was weird, and I told her not to. She gave me her toothbrush. I do n't like conflict, so I just tried to secretly avoid her. She got the hint, started clinging even harder. I remember her drunk calls, where I would order a taxi for her out of pity. She was always around me, always behind me. She changed my name on her phone to boyfriend. It was weird... 
 
 Still rolling around in my pain, I started cutting myself. Long cuts across my wrist. Painful, but helpful. She did n't like that. It triggered her, a girl whom was afraid of blood. 
 
 I finally got the bravery to really turn her down. She started sobbing, and pulled out a knife. I did n't fight. It would be weird to fight, when you did n't have anything to live for. I fell to the ground, staring at her fearful face, while she sobbed in disbelief. Her shaking hand, dropped the knife, and she screamed and ran away. 
 
 I wonder what will happen to Sophie? 

