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Sometimes, It's Just Not Worth It.
Story published June 7, 2013 · updated September 17, 2013 · 24 pages · 1,307 readers · 7,545 reads
Prologue
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Prologue

Sometimes, it’s just not worth it.
Prologue
 
Sometimes, it’s just not worth getting out of bed in the morning. Most days I would wake up to find my cat sitting on my chest purring loudly and pawing at my face until I got up and filled her food bowl. But today I woke up to a thumping headache and no cat to be found. My stomach and thighs ached as I sat myself up, shuddering as my bare feet were exposed to the cool winter air. I walked to the en suite situated outside my bedroom, taking an Advil then stripping to my underwear to inspect the damage I’d inflicted upon myself the night before. I took off the bandages to see that the cuts were red and angry, my old cuts long turned into scars; thin white lines running across my leg and a long one from when I was feeling extra depressed. My stomach wasn't any better. I tended to stay away from the clichéd wrist area, seeing as it was a popular spot in self harmers. My pale skin was almost fluorescent under the bathroom lights and my brown curls were dull and lifeless. 
 
I sighed, taking off the rest of my clothing and jumped into the shower. The hot water seared as it hit my skin making my teeth clench but, the burn was good. After standing under the burning sensation for about 5 minutes I hopped out towelled off. I took a moment to inspect my skin; red blotches covered my back and arms and the intensity of the water must’ve aggravated my most recent cuts because the ones of my stomach had opened up again and were leaving red lines of blood running down my stomach towards my legs. I grabbed some bandages from the mirrored cupboard above the basin, grumbling under my breath as I went. After cleaning up again, I got dressed in my sweat pants and a loose fitting shirt before walking downstairs, cringing as my thighs ached with every step. I found my cat sitting at the end of the hallway cleaning its paws and she meowed when she saw me. I walked into the kitchen finding my best friend, also the man I was infatuated with and his girlfriend sitting at the dining table.
“Morning Harry.” 
 
He loves him, but he's in love with her.
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