cutterloon1

The sting. It covered my entire arm as I pared deeper into my flesh with the shiny blade. It made a noise like only the ripping of flesh could possibly make. It�s only comparable to the sound made when one rips through a thin piece of paper with a safety pin.
The pain seared through me. The only thing that kept me slicing was the horrible though of him; the feeling of complete and utter hate that coursed through my veins. I heard his annoying laugh that only a man with complete and utter apathy for everything on earth that was righteous and good could laugh like. It was nonchalant and low in pitch, more like a chuckle than a laugh. It sent terrible vibrations of hate and an uncomfortable feeling in my genitalia rushing over me.
It passed through my arm and into my hand making the slits deep enough to make a swimming pool of blood inside. I pushed harder so that I could feel my bone beneath the blade.
Every time I saw r heard him I hated something. I made more and more cuts. Even if I knew he had just passed by the door. He ruined my life for me. My family was once happy. Now it�s only filled with sadness and fighting. My sister and I used to be a lot closer. Now we only grow farther apart. My sister and brother were at one point inseparable. Now all they do is fight. I used to be able to talk to my mom about little things that bothered me. Now I can barely stand to say hello to her when I call to tell her I�m staying out. I hate my house. My Family drives me insane; memories from the past come and bite me in the ass constantly.
I never tell anyone about my flashbacks. I always fear that they wouldn�t understand or mistake me for a loon. They come and haunt me late at night while I try to sleep. One by one they fill my head until I feel as though I�m going to pop like a balloon that has gone too high. I jump out of bed and run to the wall, the only place I feel comforted. For as long as I can remember I run to the wall. I slide my back against it somehow hoping that if I blend with it my own mind won�t attack me. The flashbacks rush upon me like a Tsunami. They make me tear at my head with my nails, ripping my hair out hoping that in doing so I may rip the memory from my brain like plucking an apple off of a tree. Rape scenes and memories of being beat to the point where it no longer hurt play over and over in my head. All the while they seem to get louder. And then�when it all stops, a loud thought, perhaps even a voice comes to me and says,�Against the wall again,just like you always end up. Ripping away at your hair as though it would help. Crying in the corner like some sort of baby. Really, it�s pathetic.�
The voice hurts, but yet seems to be somewhat comforting. The sound doesn�t seem to come from the outside. It�s not like I hear it with my ears at all. But it�s like I hear it with my brain, like when you read a book in your head or when you think words.
Then the voice continues, �Do it!�
I pick up the blade and pare away, and through my misery and my pain the voice just laughs. It�s a high pitch laugh somewhat like a stereotypical witch.
At this point I would usually tell the voice to fuck off and it would simply go away. But not this time. Oh no, the voice got louder.
�You want to be his whore don�t you?� the voice said mocking me and deliberately defying me just to be a bitch.
�Oh why the hell don�t you just go scowl somewhere in a corner, ruined?� I said being the only thing I could think of at the moment.
�Is that all you have?� she mocked and laughed,
�Now is not the time, Erin.�
�When is the time really? And when you think about it, what is time?�
�Stop trying to confuse me.�
�Oh get over it and stop being so WEAK!�

I slammed my head against the wall. �Shut up, shut up!�
I reached for a kitchen knife and sliced my forehead.
�Shut the hell up!!!� I screamed
All she did was laugh.
�You are really pathetic, Luna,� She mocked,� why don�t you just go jump off of your balcony or would you rather be Angel�s whore?�
I screamed at the top of my lungs. It drove me insane and she knew it. That�s why she said it. How could she do this? What possessed someone to vex another human being to the point of insanity? But she wasn�t like any normal human being�she was �different.� Her soul seemed to be blacked with total hatred and yet she protected me from most harms.
Just as I was bagging my head on the wall and just about ready to chop off my fucking head from this mortal coil, my giver of life walked through the door.
�Luna, what are you doing?� she said looking confused and angry all the same.
�Nothing mom I was rehearsing for this play at school where at the end, I kill myself.� I lied trying to be discrete about it.
�Well do you have to use a real knife? Didn�t they give you a plastic one or something?� she said taking the knife away from me.
�No mom we aren�t allowed to take the props home.� I said not believing that she even bought that lie.
�Okay�well if you need me I will be upstairs in my room.� With that, she left.

�Dumbass!� Erin said, referring to my mom.
I ignored her, walking over to the washing machine in the corner of my room.
My room was in a basement and there were no windows. The only way out was through the door at the top of a flight of stairs, which lead to the living room. I liked my room being almost non-apart of the house. It made me feel like I was away from this wretched family. When I was in my room it was like being in a private sanctuary in which I was only allowed. Here I could pretend like that bastard �Angel� didn�t exist. I could hear him rummaging in the kitchen above. He was fat and horrible.
He smoked so much that he was always coughing. His body disgusted me and whenever he entered the same room I was in my little body filled with hatred, perfect hatred. He had bulgy eyes that were as dark as night. His hair was curly and his lips looked like too sausages slapped together. Out of them came the most annoying sound on the planet. His voice was like the low humming of �Auhgm� but it wasn�t relaxing, it was horrifying. It was enough to make my cat go insane scratching at the wall when she heard it. He was a teenage boy. He was my mom�s plaything. My mother was 36 years old and she loved younger men. I always thought it was a phase but when she brought Angel into the house I knew my life was over. The boy was only 2 years older than I was. I myself was 13 when she brought him in�he was 15. It�s been 4 years since she first brought him here and even in that first week that he lived with us he did things to me that were not �fatherly�.

We played in the living room, my sister and I. He decided he was going to join us in a water fight in the house. Little did I realize that he was into me in a way that he was not supposed to be. As I was running to get away from the water they were throwing at me, he