The suppressed pain

She was lying on her bed. Everyone thought she slept. But she was lying on her bed like a dead body wishing she would die in sleep peacefully. Because it's difficult to live with that storm in your heart. It's difficult!! Because now death seems to be easy. Death seems to be beautiful than living. Her pillows quietly soaked the tears and when she could no longer bear the pain, she got down from her bed and ran to the washroom.
As she saw herself in the mirror, she weeped harder.
Eyes swollen, red nose, lips trembling, she felt pity on herself. She cried for everything. For every single thing she had hidden deep into her heart.
She wanted someone to hug her tight and take away her sorrow. But she found no one. Surrounded by many people, loved by many, she found no one.
She didn't want anyone because people who promised to fix her, heal her, destroyed her more.
She knew, the only person she could trust is herself.
She assured herself that she is strong. She undoubtedly is. But that moment needed a different sort of assurance.
And there she saw a razor. That was an escape. A kind of distraction. For one moment, she didn't feel the pain, the loss, the betrayal, the hurt.
All she felt was that razor going deep into her skin, the blood dripping down her arm.
She didn't think about how alone she was or how fat or ugly she is. She didn't think about the way people talked behind her back or the way she was judged or misinterpreted. She didn't think about her family, about her friends, about her best friend. All she thought about was the blood.
But the worst part is when the pain and hurt comes back. When the cut isn't fresh and you can feel all the build up of sadness and loneliness inside you. So you have to do it again, but a little deeper, so the numbness last longer. The pain inside delays longer.
And eventually, everything gets numb. Everything!!

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