Le official thread cause everyone else has one
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:31pm
Thread Topic: Le official thread cause everyone else has one
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ah sorry
bye -
Faeryn_Stem NewbieAnn: someone should talk to Faeryn. Careful, she might scream at you though.
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Stop. Please stop...
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It's getting colder every second
surrounded by these forget-me-knots
and second thoughts,
and I want them to stop.
Stop.
Please stop.
Stop.
Please stop. -
And I was hurting on the inside so
I hurt myself on the outside, too.
But then came you,
and you begged me to stop. -
Something doesn't feel right.
Seriously, my stomach, my heart, something doesn't feel right. -
I can't get it to stop.
I haven't told my parents about Monday.
It feels weird.
I want it to stop.
I want the dreams to stop.
They're all the same.
Why am I even posting this?
Sullie-Ann, you're stupid.
You're naive.
No one on here can really help you.
They're not physically here.
They can't make you stop.
Why bother?
But it's a simple question, isn't it?
You already know the answer to it.
You're just an attention seeking b----!
That's all a cutter ever is.
But they don't know what I went though.
Sometime pain helps me forget.
You're a mess though, look at you.
You're horrible.
A bad friend.
You try and fail.
Why do you stand back up?
Because I'm a fighter.
I'm not a bad friend if I'm there for them, aren't I?
Then why complain?
Because I trust them.
Ha. You trust strangers online?
Sometimes they're the closest people though.
You're stupid.
I know.
You're a b----.
I know.
No one cares.
Good, no one to hurt.
You're depressed.
But comfortable.
f--- I hate this feeling so much. My stomach, my heart, no. These dreams have to stop. I hate them. I want them to stop. I can't shoot. I just can't. The guns scare me now. I can't do it. I can't be what they want me to be, and I'm sorry mom. Dad. I'm sorry. So sorry I can't be the girl you want me to, but I just can't pull the trigger again. All I see is him. And the gun. The blood. I hear the screams, over and I can't make them stop. I want it to stop, but I can't make them. -
I told them it was just anxiety. I'm so glad they believed me. I could have sworn that he was there. All those people around me during basket ball, trying to get the ball from me, pushing me. Hurting me. Elbowing me. That's not what I saw. That's not what I felt. I felt people rushing past me, trying to save themselves from him. And the basketballs hitting the ground? They sounded like gunshots. I swear, they did. I swear I was there. With him. He was going to shoot me. He'd try. He always tries. Then I'd get the gun from him, I'd trick him, I"m smart, I'd get the gun. I'd point it at him. I always do. I pointed it at him. It was easy to pull the trigger. Too easy. And then the screams. All the screams. The crying. Too many people around me. I wanted to get away. I couldn't move. I couldn't move. No. No I couldn't move. They wouldn't let me. The dream was too real for me. I couldn't hold it in. I had to make them move, so I screamed at them. I didn't want them to touch me anymore. I wanted to get away from them. They were scaring me. Scaring me so badly. But I scared them too. The basket balls still sounded like gunshots. I started crying. The People in PE asked me what was wrong. I told them that My knees hurt, and that I had fallen earlier. They believed me. I sat out. They thought I was telling the truth. They did it again in the locker room. The lockers slamming sounded like gunshots. The people around me. I couldn't take it. He was there. He was going to shoot me. I couldn't stop the feelings. It was horrible. I wanted it to stop. I want these dreams to stop. I don't know how. I don't when those damned drugs though. I don't want to be crazy. I'm not crazy, I'm fine, just troubled.
I don't like this feeling. I want it to stop. I want the dreams, the memories, everything to go away. I know how to break my habit though, and make the memories go away. I know how to not trouble anyone anymore. Just take a bullet to my head. Just like the dream tells me to. It's easy, but I can't be around guns. I can't. I get scared. And I don't want the people who care to wonder why. I don't want them to wonder what they did wrong, because they didn't do anything wrong. I just want it to end. That's why the razors, that's why. I admit it. I just want it to stop. Just f---ing stop. Numb the pain, I want it to go away, but I can't. No matter how hard I try, I always see him standing there. I want him dead. I want him dead. I want them both dead. Both those b------s, I want them f---ing dead. -
I want them dead.
I want them both dead.
But I can't shoot them. No, not myself. I can't. The gun scare me too much.
I don't know what to do.
I'm scared.
I don't want to sleep.
I don't want to see him again.
I don't want him to hurt me.
I don't want him to hurt them.
I can't stand it.
It will be my fault.
I don't want to see all those dead people again.
I don't want to see them die again.
I can't.
I want him dead.
But I can't do it myself.
I'd feel safer then, wouldn't I?
If he was dead.
If both of them were dead.
I'd never have to worry again.
But the memories.
The screams.
They'll always be there.
Don't touch me.
Stop.
The screams.
The memories.
Will always be there.
In my dreams.
Always.
Always waiting.
Always.
But I don't wnat them.
They're not mine.
Nope.
Nope.
Go away.
I don't want them.
Take them...
It's impossible.
It's useless.
Why bother?
It's not going to work.
It'll still be there.
Always there.
Don't touch me.
I don't want them.
Stop.
I don't wnat them.
Take them.
I don't need them.
Go away.
I don't want them.
Please.
Please.
Stop.
I want them dead.
I want them dead.
I want those b------s dead.
Gone.
But I can't pull the trigger myself.
I'm hopeless.
It's all usless.
Why bother, right?
Stop it.
Please.
I want them dead.
I want those b------s dead. -
I want them dead.
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I want them to stop.
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huh?
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