Tiana's POV

Another day is the first thing I think when I wake up that day. Another day of shitty parents being shitty parents and another day where I don't exist when I'm at school.

I slept crying last night after my so-called father hit me. Spitting words at me that made me wonder what to think of myself. But I'm used to it. It's been happening since I was 7 and I'm now 16 so I'm used to it. I have to be.

As I wake up and do the normal morning routine, not for the first time, I wonder why I'm doing it. For who? Why? What's the use? I don't have friends, my father hates me and my mother doesn't care about me. I don't really care about myself either. I don't have anything or anyone.

I'm alone.

Trying to remove these feelings and forget the very familiar blade that's been used several times in my bathroom, I make my way downstairs, but not before I take my hoodie, my protective hoodie that is the only thing in this world that makes me feel safe. It is now a softer shade of green due to overuse but it's still my only form of armour against the world.

As I reach the last step, I look left and right to see if my shit father was anywhere around. Finding no one, I quickly dart out the door and begin to walk the three kilometer walk to school.

Once I reach school, I put my hoodie on and head inside. It feels safe in my hoodie, like I'm protected. It hides my brown hair and my green eyes. It hides the scars and the bruises when my dad hits me. It hides the sadness I feel each time I see my mom with that far away look in her eyes she gets when she's high. It hides all that ashamed of.

As I walk down the hallway with a bunch of my notes, I accidentally bump into someone. Looking up, I see that it's two of the populars, Tyson Bent. Tyson with his Raven black hair and grey eye. And his best friend Xavier, with his pretty brown hair and brown eyes. Great.

I don't really want anything to do with anyone today. I just want one day where I'm by myself. Is that too much to ask?

But the worst part isn't the fact that I just bumped into them, it's the fact that my hoodie has fallen down, revealing my face. My armour has fallen.

I feel so vulnerable. So scared.

Tyson looks at me with surprise and awe, his grey eyes shining, then says "Are you new here? I'm sure I would remember such a pretty face." He then proceeds to wink at me flirtatiously. That bastard.

I don't answer him. Instead I scowl at him, put my hoodie back over my head and walk away. I don't need more shit in my life. And a guy with an ego as big as his could use some healthy rejection.

I'm so scared.

As I walk away and turn around the corner, I check my notes and see that one of them is missing. Thinking they must've fallen when I bumped into Tyson, I walk back to get the notes but stop when I hear them speak.

"Huh. Her name is Tiana Collins," I hear Tyson say. He probably found my notes.

"I've never heard of her," I hear Xavier say.

"I know. She actually scowled at me when we bumped. I didn't think there were any other reactions to girls bumping against me other than batting eyelashes and twirling hair," I hear Tyson say and I can practically see him smirking.

Xavier snorts. "As if. That girl's different. If you can get her to sleep with you, then I'll admit that you're what you say you are."

"It's a done deal then, man," I hear Tyson say. "They all fall for me at some point of time."

"Maybe this project will reduce your ego, God knows it needs to be reduced" Xavier says jokingly.

"Impossible, this project will just boost my ego and you know it," Tyson says proudly. Why does he want such a big ego? Why why why??

"You know you have to actually have a relationship with her right? She seems like the relationship type of girl," Xavier says.

"Ugh, I know. But I'll break up with her after I sleep with her. I hope she's not a virgin though, they're so damn clingy. Plus it's hard to actually get into their pants when they're virgins, ya know, with them protecting they're virginity and all," I hear Tyson say, but I don't hear anything else because I'm running.

I've been reduced from a person to a project. I'm no longer needed as a person but as a project to increase someone's ego, I think as I run to the bathroom. I enter a stall and as soon as I'm in one, I cry.

I cry for the happy life I wish I had. I cry for the parents and friends I never had. I cry for the love I never experienced. I cry for the happiness I've always wanted. I cry for me.

With trembling hands I take the blade out of my pocket and pull my jeans down. Hating myself for doing what I'm about to do, I start cutting my thigh. I hate this. I hate this so much. But I can't stop. I never do.

I watching as the blood trickles down my thigh and into the bowl, making the water red. I think of how people say "Blood is thicker than water". That can never be true in my case. It never was since I was 7.

Wiping the blood and tears and flushing the toilet, I exit the bathroom. I don't bother trying to fix my make up, because I don't put make up. No one's looking at me anyway.

I endure the rest of the day as I always do and before I know it, it's time to go home. Luckily my father won't come till about six.

Walking home I can't help but think about how no one cares about me. Even I don't care about myself, so why am I alive? Why should I be alive? It's not like here's a reason for me to live.

If something doesn't change when I get home today then I'll do it, I think. I don't have anything to live for anyway. I'm just so tired. I'm tired of hoping. I'm tired of wishing. I'm tired of waking up every morning to pain and emptiness. I'm tired. I just want to rest.

I just want it all to stop.

When I reach home, part of me wishes for my mom to get up and hug me. To hold me and tell me she loves me and she's sorry. But I know better than to hope. It never worked anyway.

I look forward and see my mom on the couch, eyes far away. I go over to where she sits and hug her. She giggles against me and says "You're warm."

I let a few tears drop, knowing that, since nothing has changed, I'm not going to be here any longer.

I have nothing to live for anyway.

"I love you mom," I say softly. My mom just giggles again.

Nothing's different. Nothing's changed. It's just the same horrible routine that I'm forced to live though. The same horrible routine that's breaking little pieces of me each day.

I don't want to live this routine anymore.

The though fills me with a mix of confusion, determination and sadness. And fear. So much fear. Overwhelming me when I can't feel anything.

No one really cares. No one will know.

But for some reason, the thought of doing it fills me with emptiness. Suddenly I think of the bet Tyson and Xavier made. I know if I say yes to him if he were to ask me out, it would be fake, but at least I would have experienced something related to being liked by someone. It might be fake, but I'll pretend it's real. Like I pretend when I'm at school.

We're all actors in our own lives.

Suddenly feeling emotional, I go up to my room and take my diary, the only place I can actually let myself think. As cliche as it sounds, it's the only friend I've known. Who else do I have?

Taking it out, along with my favorite pink pen with some white fluff at the top of it, I start to write.

Dear Diary,

I've decided to do it, to leave this shithole. No one cares anyway. But for some reason the thought of leaving this world without knowing what being liked feels like, makes me feel...empty I guess. That leads me to tell you something that happened today.

Tyson bumped into me today and saw me without my hoodie. Xavier then made a bet with him after that to see if he can get me to sleep with him. I'm just worth that less to them. I'm just a bet to them, an object to make someone's ego bigger. Not even a person.

After that, Xavier said something about me being the relationship type of girl and Tyson said something about hating sleeping with virgins. Well, I am a virgin, but he's not going to sleep with me.

I've decided to take my life one week after this, and today is Monday so maybe next Monday will be good. Wow, shocker, right? It's not gonna make much of a difference anyway, so next Monday's good.

Who knows, maybe something might change in a week. I hope nothing does.

(I do I do I so badly do)

Hope is such a funny thing. It can break you down so badly and yet we all hold on to it so tightly.

Also, I cut myself today. I knew I was worthless but hearing Tyson and Xavier talk about me like I'm some kind of project made it all worse. I hated cutting, I loved cutting. I wanted it to end, but I never wanted to at the same time. I hate myself for liking the pain. But I can't stop. And I hate myself for feeling weak. But aren't we all? Isn't everyone weak at some point? Doesn't it make us human? I don't know. But maybe that's because I'm barely human at this point.

A poem:

A blade scraps skin where it's not supposed to,
A blade scraps skin where I want it to,
All the pain that I feel, I want it to end,
Just a week I will give, until I am finally on the edge ,
Never loved, never cherished, like I wish to be,
So I'll feel what I've never felt even if it's not meant to be,
Fake words, fake smiles I will endure,
To feel that feeling that I call a cure.
_._._._._.
It's the quiet
the stillness
that make me ache for movement
It's the violence
the bruises
that makes me ache for relief
It's his eyes
his killing eyes
that makes me yearn for escape
For who would want,
in a world of fake luxury,
a life filled with your own blood?
I tear my own skin open
hoping for some relief
some way to feel
that maybe,
(just maybe)
I'm not as fine as I seem
that maybe
(just maybe)
I won't ever be
and the sky
always gives way
to another day
Where is mine?
Where is the sky
with bright colours?
Where is my stars?
Where is my sun?
I love
the little cuts
I put
on my arm
(and my hips,
and my stomach,
and my thighs)
Aren't they cute?
They're all I have.
I hate this life
I fucking hate it.
Every part of it,
I hate it.
Loneliness,
such a small word
and yet
why does it feel
so big?
(I know why,
I know I know I know I know)
You tore me apart
and laughed
when I tried
to put myself back.
Maybe,
I deserve it
but please
(please please please please please)
stop.
Is it wrong
to want to feel loved?
Is it shameful,
to want a hug?
Is it stupid,
to want to have
someone to love?
Maybe
some people
don't deserve it.
Maybe
I don't
deserve it.
But I want it
How I want it so badly
(so badly I ache for it)
But
until then
all I have
is my own
blood.
(Please help me)

Love, Tiana.

As soon as I finish writing, I hear my father downstairs calling my name. I sigh, knowing there's no escape. It's just another day. Another hour. Over an over again. Something in me aches, aches so much, but there's no use in dwelling on it. There's no use in trying to escape. Hopefully he won't do anything to my face. I have to keep it clean if I have to fake-date Tyson after all.

Knowing what's coming for me, I walk downstairs, already clutching my stomach and chest to soften the blows.
----
Hi! This is a new story (obviously) and I would like to say something.

Suicide is not to be romanticized. If you see someone struggling with depression, please talk to them and show them you care.

I used to be the person that wanted it. That wanted things to just end. To have a completely different life. And I want to say something. Things change. They get better. Life is not a total bitch.

If u spot someone like Tiana who has no one to love her, please be their reason to live. They may be right under your nose. So please don't fantasize about suicide and please don't be the reason someone considers it.

And if anyone wants to talk, please feel free to talk to me, I would love to!!

Also, excuse my dumb poetry. I've never ever done it so.... It's crap. Obviously.

Vote and Comment!!

*Waves*
Bye:)