Death vs Love

I slowly sliced the blade once across my wrist, letting my warm blood drip from the oozing cut.1

I felt a small sting in my arm and smile with satisfaction.2

I slowly walked from my room to the bathroom.3

Turning on the tap to the coldest temperature I wash down my blood-soaked wrist with water.4

I never wanted to become this type of person.5

A person who is utterly determined to die.6

But I can't seem to stop thinking of death and doing them things that will eventually lead me straight into death's wing.7

Self-harming, smoking, drinking, over-dosing.8

This all started when my family fell apart.9

When my dad started cheating on my mom with a half-his-age-skanky-skinny-beautiful-slut.10

Which resulted in my mom turning to being a work-acholic to comfort herself.11

And when she came home she'd drink away the rest of her hours and the odd time would throw a punch at me and my brother, who is a total druggy.12

I ran downstairs after cleaning up my arm and headed for the kitchen to make my mom and Jamie's dinner.13

I lit up a smoke as I prepared their dinners; mac and cheese.14

I know it's not healthy for a fifteen year old to smoke but I still did, anything that would bring me closer to death I would grab hold of.15

"Amy hurry the fuck up with that dinner!" my mom yelled from the living room.16

I sighed and put her dinner on a plate.17

"It's ready," I shouted.18

I left my brother's on a plate and stormed out of the house.19