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// Skin Deep 
// Story: A Sunset's Last Sunset 
// by CharaDemonChild 
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I look at my locker. Written across it is 'Monster', 'Freak' and 'Waste of life'. I sigh and get some spray and a cloth out my locker. It's been two months since the Fall Formal. The locker writing has been going on for six weeks. Each day positivity is becoming increasingly difficult to pinpoint. I'm basically a punch bag now...but I deserve this. I'm a monster. Monsters deserve pain. I sigh slightly, heading outside. I don't go to the cafeteria anymore. I couldn't face it. I sit on the steps, ignoring the rain tapping my hair. I have no coat, so I shiver. Anything though is better than those judgmental stares. The words that go skin deep.

Rain. It causes things to grow. Flowers ....trees both rely on rain. Rain destroys plagues.  But it can also drown the ladybug or over saturate the fragile daisy, snapping it. My point is ying and yang. But I'm merely darkness...with no light. I sigh, staring out into the clouded sky. I cant see the sun. All I see is clouds, blocking out light. I don't deserve light, and my existence casts shadows on others. So really I'm being selfish by being alive... Not that I'll end it. Not yet.

As soon as I head in insults are hurdled at me.
"Hey Monster." Sombra greets. They LONG got payback for Luna and Celestia finding them hitting me. They've created a hate page about me...it's exceedingly popular. He throws me a bag of homework.
"Do it. Or you'll end up on hospital." he threatens. I nod, fighting spirit long gone. Still. The pain. Go away. I deserve it, I need it to stop me turning evil again. Maybe...I could help. I keep this idea until I get home. Then I walk into the kitchen and puck up the knife I use to cut veg.

I hold it to my arm, the cold metal leaving goosebumps. The edge presses into my skin, pain forming. Blood trickles down my wrist, to my sleeves. I make another, decorating my arm with cuts. I deserve this. I'm a failiure. A monster. I sigh, if someone notices it'll be yet another thing to bully about. Sure, for these two, I can blame a cat. But what about future ones? I sigh, looking down. My eyes lock on my thighs, obscured by leggings. Perfect. I press the knife again, causing the pain I deserve.