Over the edge

As I woke from a restless sleep, I quickly remembered I had another day to face at school. Another day to remind me what an "attention seeker" I was. It made me angry that people had the audacity to say that. I'd tried my hardest to cover my self harm, and I just wanted everybody to forget about it already. They'd forgotten about my mum dying. Or even if they remembered, they didn't mention a thing. Apart from one boy, Jordan Rushworth. Up until now, I'd thankfully never had to experience someone be completely cruel directly about my mum's death...but he'd sent me something over Facebook which made my skin crawl with hatred. He'd started spreading rumours in school about me, and I'd had enough now. He'd fucked with me for too God damn long. So I asked him, "Why do you feel the need to spread rumours about my life?" My hands were shaking now. The reply came quickly, "Why would I want to think about your fucked up little life, Kirsty?" My hands were typing the response before I even knew exactly what I was going to say. "What makes my life any more fucked up than yours?" I regretted it as soon I re-read it, but by then I'd already pressed enter. Fuck. Of course, I knew more reasons than he did why my life was so screwed up compared to everybody else's. "Well, at least I've got a mum, Kirsty. As well two arms with no scars."

I'd been staring at the screen for two minutes and my body had began to shake. I was so fucking angry! How dare he. My eyes darted to the screen, he was typing. He was typing?! He had more?! No, I don't think I could face an onslaught of insults. "Happy?" Is that all he had to say? Somehow, that one word tipped me over the edge. I started crying again and my body wouldn't stop shaking. I was just overcome by hatred and anger I couldn't see past it. I slammed my laptop shut. This was the last fucking time anyone insulted me like that. Ever.