Suicide-
Romanticized
Robin slammed the door to her room closed. She couldn't remember a time she hadn't. It had become a habit for her by now, habit from the days she needed it. Day she had thought gone.
"GIRL! Don't slam your fucking door again, or I'll bust my belt off my pants, and whoop your lil ass till it bleeds! GIRL! Did you HEAR me? Don't fucking distract me from the game again!" yelled Robin's father from the couch in front of the TV.
"Whatever you lazy drunk," Robin whispered to herself. She knew her father, Paul, wouldn't do more than threaten, too lazy to get off "his" couch. Besides, she knew him to be too drunk to care after the first few moments. She would do something about his obvious problem, but she had too many of her own.
Robin took the messenger bag that holds all her school stuff off her shoulder. School. Another word for hell. Nobody there understood her, and nobody cared to try. There, she was worse than an outcast, or a loser, she was in a completely different class. A class she understood to be reserved for the worst social entities. The freaks.
Robin looked at herself in the dirty mirror by her dresser, a dresser filled with almost all black. Maybe the title fits? She thought to herself yet again, gazing upon the skinny girl in the mirror. She had dyed her hair black last year, because it described her more than being blond. She had piercings all along her bottom lip, with the skin cracked from all the chewing on it she did, and all over her ears. She had dull green eyes, which she considered to be the worst part about her. Why couldn't they be brown or blue? She thought, maybe then people would notice me. But the worst part about her wasn't on her face, but rather the secrets hidden underneath her clothing.
Sighing, Robin pulled off her clothes slowly, knowing the mental and emotional anguish she would soon suffer. When done, she stood there, in her panties and bra, and looked at the devastation.
Cuts. Cuts were everywhere that could be seen. Some were obviously the first ones, being well healed over, and shyly shallow. Others, most of them, were pink, bulbous, and angry-looking gashes and stabs.
She slowly traced the outlines of them, feeling the memories whispering to her. Whispering, "Come here, come again, just one more, just one to die."
Robin shook her head, saying to herself, "no, not again. Not ever again." She had had enough of them controlling her, so she had stopped cutting a month ago. At first, she had gone thorough a phase where she couldn't think of anything but the knives that she had thrown out, and how she knew where she could get more.
But lately, she had actually thought of other things, and been able to function without the feeling of cold metal against her skin multiple times a day. And for the past few days, she had been able to get through the day, happily being ignored.
But this week had been different. Special even. Somebody had talked to her. Actually talked to her, not just a simple question about what they were doing in class when forcibly paired together, no, not that small chatter, but actual conversations. With her, Robin the Freak.
It had started out simple, with a simple greeting from the new girl. She'll learn quickly, Robin thought, accustom to the patterns new kids follow. "Working your way up the ladder," she called it. Start at the bottom, and go up until you find the people you fit in with the best, she had seen it done plenty of times, and each time, there she was, the lowest rung.
Kendal was everything that Robin didn't consider herself to be. Athletic, pretty, skinny-in-just-the-right-way, and smart. Robin knew that this conversations would go nowhere between them, and Kendal would leave Robin down at the bottom of the ladder by herself.
But following that short conversation were other conversations with Kendal, the girl, followed by sitting together at lunch, and even followed by passing notes to each other during the class they had together. Kendal, in short, had become one of Robin's first, and her currently only, friend.
But then, today had been different from this special week. Kendal had ignored Robin, as if Kendal had attended the school for more than a couple of weeks, and instead suddenly knew all of the social class distinctions between them.
Today, Kendal ignored her, completely. It started in the morning, before school, when Robin found the usual spot that they met at, which was off to the side of the school with a few benches, and a few nerds, devoid of Kendal.
She's probably just in the bathroom Robin thought to herself, but this was the first time that Kendal hadn't been there, so she felt a little nervous.
Throughout the day, Robin saw no signs of her, until she got to the one class they shared. There she was, Kendal, sitting in her chair. But… she was talking to Kate Lyxen.
Kate Lyxen was the devil-incarnate for Robin, constantly the head of operations on the things that were designed to make Robin's life miserable. It was she that orchestrated the school-wide turn against her; it was her that organized Robin's invisibility.
Robin had told Kendal all of this, but here they were, chatting like the best friends that Robin thought that she and Kendal were. She quietly sat down at a desk as far away from the pair as possible. But it didn't matter- Kendal looked up and had seen her. Kendal's smile had immediately turned into a frown, which caused Kate to turn around. Kate's reaction was the to-be-expected. Her joyful smile turned into one filled to the brim with cruelty and sadistically perfectness.