On Self-destruction.

I lay on my bed, going over last night's conversation, probably for the hundredth time. His words echoed in my head. I checked my phone, he'd heard my message but hadn't responded. I considered texting him again but didn't. A lump formed in my throat and all the pieces he'd helped me put back started to fall apart once again. My lower lip quivered and my eyes started to get blurry. I switched off my phone and walked towards the bathroom. As soon as I was inside, and had locked the door, I clasped my hand over my mouth in a vain attempt to not cry. My hands shook as I took of my clothes and turned on the shower. Desperate tears fell out of my eyes as I remembered every single memory we had. From the very first 'Hi.' to the conversation we had last night. I suddenly realized that I was on the bathroom floor but I didn't even know when my legs gave out. "Why, why did you have to make me love you?" I cried, shaking all over. I leaned against the wall and pulled my legs close to myself and looked at my reflection in the blue plastic bucket filled with water. I put my face in the water and tried to breathe it in. But reflexes jolted me out of the water and forced me to cough up the water. "Give up." I ordered myself as I put my head in the water once again. But my body wouldn't comply and once again I was left on the bathroom floor coughing up water. "Let me die." I whispered to myself. "No." a voice in my head said. It was his voice. "Get out of my head." I said hoarsely, the exhaustion of it all making me feel dizzy. His voice adamantly repeated, "No. " "Why do you even care?" I thought. "After what you said last night, you might as well have shot me in the head, but at least that would be more humane." I shook my head and slowly stood up. The water from the shower ran down my bare skin. I walked towards the cabinet; a pale faced girl with bloodshot eyes and semi-wet hair looked back at me from the mirror. I ignored her and opened the cabinet, looking for something I hadn't used in quite some time. "Hello, old friend." I whispered as I took out a stainless steel razor blade. The light bounced off its metallic surface and made it shine. I raised the metal to my wrist and his voice begged, "Please. No." My hands shook as I tried to ignore it. "Don't die. Please. Don't die." his voice begged, louder. "I'm already dead." I whispered, and my heart gave a little squeeze. I looked at my wrist for a moment and then put the razor down. I looked down my chest, at my abdomen. The previous scars had faded and were almost gone. Then, I made the first cut. It was a small one and didn't hurt much. Then, I did it again, and again, and again till my entire abdomen was covered in cuts. It burned a little when the water from the shower came in contact with them, but the pain made it hurt less inside. The water washed away the tiny, ruby red drops from my abdomen and the skin near the cuts turned a pale shade of red. I turned off the shower and stood in front of the bathroom mirror. "Don't ever love anyone again." I whispered, brushing my fingertips against the raw wounds. I put on my clothes and looked at the mirror as I plastered a fake smile on my lips. Then I walked out the door like nothing had happened.