Faerie Onyx

Pain Killerz and Code Red

My brother ruined dinner... again. Why does he always
have to say shit like that to me?? I hate the way he
looks, the way he dresses, the way he ACTS! I hate
everything about him. His attitude is even worse than mine
is. I never say anything like that to him... So I threw
some bread at him. My mom saw the whole thing and yelled
at my brother. My dad only saw me throw bread at the
little bastard, so I got yelled at. I shouldn't have let
my dad in after he got "locked out." The fucking door was
UNLOCKED!
I went up to my room after I was yelled at, and my dad
said, "You can't get on the phone or the internet until you
come down and spend some time with us." Why would I want
to spend time with people who don't accept me for who I
am? Why would I torture myself thus? And why does Father
believe that family dinners keep kids off of drugs? Notice
they started having family dinner every night after they
caught me with weed.
I turned up "Lord Abortion" as loud as my wonderful
stereo will go, and got yelled at again, this time over the
phone. At this point I decided that I would go back down
so that I could talk to Sonny later. I shoved my feelings
deep inside like I did earlier with Sonny, and I went back
at the very end of dinner. I cleared the dishes and put
them all in the dishwasher. I got un-grounded for doing my
chores and for coming back at all. I uncaringly shoveled
all of the food that had been given to me into the trash.
I didn't like what it was anyway. For dinner all I had was
pain killers and Code Red. I want some more pills... I
just can't stand this anymore. I should be able to find
some in our house. My parents take all sorts of pills for
things they really don't need to be taking pills for. One
pill that my dad takes fucked me up so badly that I
hallucinated, and Mike and Matt took Matt's mom's while
Mike and Matt were at Matt's house one day last year, along
with smoking a lot of weed. Matt's mom thought Matt was
drunk, and only later wondered where her pills were.
Two years ago when I cut, I cut to bleed. Now, I want to
cut to die. Of course I won't, but it's the most
comforting of all of the thoughts I can think of. I
constantly hide my feelings and shove them deep inside and
pretend that I'm not angry, or I'm not hurt, or I'm not
upset in any way. Well guess what. I AM HURTING! I hurt
everyday, and today I *almost* cut myself. I tried, but
all I could find in my room were safety pins, earrings, and
other non-deadly things. My parents would have noticed had
I gone downstairs and grabbed that sharp knife that I found
(thanks to my asshole brother). They would have wondered
what I needed a large kitchen knife for while I was all
alone in my room... They would have put two and two
together, and back to the hospital I would go. My only
consolations are the blood, the pills, and my writing.
If I was having sex, it would be on my list as well. On
the 19th of December, it will officially have been a year
since I had sex. And yes, I remember the date. Ashley was
and is so beautiful, and I remember that she was the reason
I hung my blankets across my windows. We were talking back
and forth on our computers in my house, and she told me
that she liked me and she wanted to have sex with me, but
didn't know how to ask me in person. We had kissed the
night before (and Mike had a problem with THAT), and she
mentioned that it felt like I was pushing her away. I
explained that I liked her a lot and that was the reason.
Of course, my twisted logic made no sense to her, but I
didn't want to get in over our heads or anything. These
pills are kicking in... I'm happy, and I'm actually
smiling... But he doesn't care. He never cared about me.
He never will care, so I don't see why I bother.