It was late at night, when my parents were asleep. I was wide awake, thinking about the things that happened to me today again. This is becoming a habit. Every night when I lay on my bed I think about the things that happened at school. All the insults, the beating, name calling, that sort of stuff. There was one time when two ponies came to me, and snatched my notebook out of my hooves when I was drawing. I loved to draw things, but I guess they didn't want me to.
Today was no different. I drew a big tree on a small notebook I've been hiding in my bag. It had lots of branches, and lots of green leaves. A bird was standing on one of the branches, building a nest on it. When the lunch bell rang, all the other ponies went to the cafeteria with their friends. I ate alone of course, since I had nopony. Who would care about a useless filly like me anyway. I took my lunch out of my lunchbox. A sandwich, milk, and a banana. I was about to eat, when a pony took my milk and poured it all on my sandwich. I didn't turn around, but I heard a chuckle, then laughter. It was fine. I didn't feel like eating lunch anyway. I wrapped my lunch in a paper towel, and just threw it in a garbage can. With a banana still in my hooves, I walked back to my classroom, only to discover that my drawing of the tree were ripped to pieces. I felt like time stopped at that moment. I didn't feel anything. I felt nothing but pain. I took all of the ripped paper that was on my desk and threw them into a nearby trashcan. Then I sat down on my seat, buried my face in my hooves, and silently cried. A cry that nopony will hear...
I couldn't sleep. All these memories, they always come back in my mind whenever I try to sleep. It was something I can't help with. I walked over to my desk, and turned on my small lamp that was on my desk. I looked for my notebooks I've been keeping in the dim light. I didn't want to turn my room light on since I liked the dark. I found some of my old notebooks stashed on the back of all school books from my bookshelf. They're the notebooks I used to draw when I was young. I opened one of them, and saw a drawing of me and my old friends I had when I was only a baby. It was so sloppy, other ponies wouldn't know what it is, but I know what I drew. I flipped a page and saw a big circle with a two dots and a very wide smile. I cringed, and at the same time I smirked at myself. I was so little then. I was a happy little filly, with lots of great friends who understood each other. But it's all in the past now. I'm all alone, and I always will be.
I opened up another notebook, and saw little doodles of ponies next to some math problems I had to solve when my mom taught me. I was so bored, I doodled on it when my mom wasn't looking. I smirked again, remembering the happy old days I had in my childhood with her. But the was all before she died of illness. I miss her everyday. Sometimes I silently cried myself to sleep. I wish she was here. I miss her warm hugs, goodnight kisses, the times we went to the park together. Now all gone for eternity. After her death, we began to be poor. My dad lost his job, and he's still looking for one. Now we are alone, my dad and I. Everyday was pain to us, but we lived to see another painful day.
I opened up another notebook, and saw a drawing of me getting hit by a big monster. That was when I started getting bullied. I didn't want to look at it. I wanted to see more of my happy drawings, but I didn't find any on it. I checked all the other notebooks too, but there were worse drawings in it. All I saw was a drawing of ponies getting beaten, killed, hurt. I couldn't stand it anymore. I was a stupid worthless pony who didn't deserve to draw at all.
I saw something shine from the dim light in my pencil box. I kept all my drawing pencils and pens in there, and some crafting equipment I sometimes used. One of them was shining because of the dim light my small lamp was giving. I took it out to see what it was. It was a new razor blade that I recently bought for my old razor I rarely used. The edge and the side of it looked very sharp. I stared at the edges for a moment, wondering how much it would hurt if somepony got stung by it. I imagined the pain I'd feel if I used it to hurt myself.
I started to have desire for pain. For some blood. I got used to getting beaten, and getting bruised. A little cut wouldn't be much of a difference. I mean it would hurt, but it wouldn't be that bad, would it? I looked at my drawings again, the pony getting beaten on the ground as all the dark black ponies around her kicked her with their hooves. It hurt a lot when they did that. But now that I'm used to it, I can take the pain. A little cut wouldn't hurt much. Would it?
I held my left hoof outward onto the desk. It looked so cracked, bruised, scarred. I didn't care. I want to cut, and that's what I'll do. I held the blade with my right hoof and stared at the little metal piece. I heard my mind whisper to me saying that I should do it. It was telling me that I was worthless, stupid, and useless. I knew they were all true. It wouldn't matter if one little pony disappeared from the world anyway.
I couldn't think straight. I was a little afraid, but at the same time I felt like this was the right thing to do. I put the blade onto my left hoof, feeling the coldness of the little metal blade. I pressed it against my hoof, I felt a cold chill down my spine, causing me to shiver in fear. I thought I was wasting time. I should get this over with.
I pressed the blade onto my hoof, and used the edge to cut sideways. I felt the sharp sides of the blade cut through my flesh, pain flowing on my whole arm, I winced. It stung so much, it felt like putting loads of salt on a bloody wound. My eyes went wide as I saw blood coming out from the cut. I quickly put the blade down, and pressed my right hoof onto the cut so it doesn't bleed too much. It kept bleeding, even though I tried to stop it. What have I done? I knew I shouldn't have done it.
But I wanted more… The pain felt so good, I felt like all the pressure I bottled inside me was being bled out through the cut. I liked it. I needed this. But what if my dad found out that I stayed up at night thinking like this? What if my friends found out that I cut? Did it matter? My dad would be heartbroken because of me, and I didn't want his life to become more harder, and I didn't have any friends. I was a worthless little pony the world doesn't even know I exist. Nopony would care if one pony disappeared anyway…
I had to clean up the mess. My blood was dripping onto my desk, and I had to make sure nopony notices the red stained color on my desk. I quietly went to the living room, and grabbed a rag. I laid it onto the desk, letting the blood seep through it. It looked like I was cleaning ketchup, which made me thought nopony would notice. I put the rag back to where it was, turned off the dim desk light, and laid onto my bed. My hoof still hurt a lot. It kinda felt like it was burning on fire. I put a bandage on it after I put the rag away though, so I wasn't really that worried. I felt like I refreshed myself. I felt… fine.
Sleepiness slowly took over me. Tomorrow was going to be another day of pain to me, and I just wish I could get the courage someday to end it all.
