Post by Darcy on Apr 4, 2011 7:54:49 GMT -5
(Rated pg13 for swearing and gore)
Seven hated herself, she loathed herself, even more so now than before. She couldn’t help it though, she had made too many mistakes and was disappointed of herself. Cutting herself, was something she was past, at least for the moment. She was trying to think of other ways to torture herself, cutting just didn’t cut it anymore. She smirked, the joke was on her, and she knew that. She had killed her brother, and even though she had had a reason, it just wasn’t the right thing to do. Half of her understood that, understood, that she was a complete monster, understood it was bad, regretted it. This was the side that made her torture herself, loathe herself. The other half however, it simply didn’t care it had a reason for everything, this was her “ASPD” side. Whenever she thought regret this side would argue back. You could say maybe she was a bit schizophrenic, but she wasn’t if was just her DID. She didn’t see too people, or hear voices. She did however argue with herself, constantly. She didn’t like that, but she often didn’t know which side to listen too. They were both destructive.
She listened to both sides almost equally. She would go, do something she regret, and then she would beat herself up for it. Seven however, enjoyed to hurt people, almost as much as she liked to hurt herself. She didn’t want to die. She just liked to cut, and being the naïve person she was didn’t figure she could make a mistake when hurting herself. A bit of foreshadowing to when she’s an adult, she was wrong. She never hurt anyone who didn’t too anything to her first, unless she was directed to do so. She however would hurt herself for any small mistake she made, no madder how little it mattered.
She knew she was messed up, she knew she needed help. She however loathed herself, and there for never did anything about it.
She walked around bored, not bothering to talk to anyone. She was in a downright BAD mood. She didn’t want to talk, she wanted to be alone, but in this fucking place that wasn’t going to happen. She -she figured, she would put herself where more people would talk, because it hurt her on the inside.
She rolled up her sleeves and looked at her arms. There were too many scars on them for her enjoyment, but she thought it was a funny oxymoron. She didn’t know what to do, and she was so upset. At the verge of tears, but what was new?
I just want to fucking hurt myself!!! and she longed to scream it, but decided against it.
Seven hated herself, she loathed herself, even more so now than before. She couldn’t help it though, she had made too many mistakes and was disappointed of herself. Cutting herself, was something she was past, at least for the moment. She was trying to think of other ways to torture herself, cutting just didn’t cut it anymore. She smirked, the joke was on her, and she knew that. She had killed her brother, and even though she had had a reason, it just wasn’t the right thing to do. Half of her understood that, understood, that she was a complete monster, understood it was bad, regretted it. This was the side that made her torture herself, loathe herself. The other half however, it simply didn’t care it had a reason for everything, this was her “ASPD” side. Whenever she thought regret this side would argue back. You could say maybe she was a bit schizophrenic, but she wasn’t if was just her DID. She didn’t see too people, or hear voices. She did however argue with herself, constantly. She didn’t like that, but she often didn’t know which side to listen too. They were both destructive.
She listened to both sides almost equally. She would go, do something she regret, and then she would beat herself up for it. Seven however, enjoyed to hurt people, almost as much as she liked to hurt herself. She didn’t want to die. She just liked to cut, and being the naïve person she was didn’t figure she could make a mistake when hurting herself. A bit of foreshadowing to when she’s an adult, she was wrong. She never hurt anyone who didn’t too anything to her first, unless she was directed to do so. She however would hurt herself for any small mistake she made, no madder how little it mattered.
She knew she was messed up, she knew she needed help. She however loathed herself, and there for never did anything about it.
She walked around bored, not bothering to talk to anyone. She was in a downright BAD mood. She didn’t want to talk, she wanted to be alone, but in this fucking place that wasn’t going to happen. She -she figured, she would put herself where more people would talk, because it hurt her on the inside.
She rolled up her sleeves and looked at her arms. There were too many scars on them for her enjoyment, but she thought it was a funny oxymoron. She didn’t know what to do, and she was so upset. At the verge of tears, but what was new?
I just want to fucking hurt myself!!! and she longed to scream it, but decided against it.