> Scars > by Veebee > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Day 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- March 19th, 2021 Day 1: It’s started… I’ve never though of using a diary. I’m not a girly popular girl like Rarity. Or wanting to document activities throughout my day like Shy. But… something major happened today. Something I need to speak to someone about, but I can’t. I can’t tell anyone, so I guess I’ll just tell the paper. Hey diary, it’s me, Rainbow Dash. I’m depressed, I cut myself and I wanna die. My breath was shaky, my mind fogged up. I wasn't thinking; I didn't know what I was doing. But then again, I did. I knew exactly what I was doing and why I was doing it; my screaming sobs of pain, covered by the loud music I played in my room. A voice constantly telling me to stop, I knew I should. I know I should, but I can't. It’s too late now. A couple more strokes followed by tears that steamed down onto my bed sheets as the pink pigmented color stained the white blanket. I sighed out, my head hurting as I grasped my arm and that voice still shouting at me, but I just ignored it. Before I knew it I had moved on to the legs, starting at the ankles as they were the weakest part. I made my way up, all the way until I reached my thigh; I stop, debating. Why am I here? Do I deserve this? I think I do, I know I do! I let out a large sigh before tightening my grip and slashing my thigh, hard. It oozed out, my sheets no longer the color of bright fluffy clouds, instead the dark red of an expensive wine you would pay thousands of dollars to drink. Drinking, tasting, I could taste it. It tasted bitter, but with a sweet after taste. It hurt my mouth, it felt like it was burning against the rough edges of my tongue. My head was now resting on my knee as I just let out more strained weeps and gulps, trying to breathe as best I could as the pain was more than I could bear. I didn't care though, nothing mattered. My tears just kept flowing as I could feel my eyes reddening and I could see nothing but the red liquid all over my legs.  My life is hell, I don't deserve not to be punished…So I'll just punish myself, this is the first of many more days to come… > Day 2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- March 21st, 2021 Day 2: Here I am again… making a huge mistake. I’ve made so many mistakes, and I just continue to hurt people. But now I'm done hurting them. It was fairly easy to re-open the wounds from my arms; they got slashed the most. The legs, however, are a different story. I don't know whether to be annoyed or grateful that they are harder to break the skin. Either way it just increases the pain more. Which I deserve anyways, I deserve this pain. I continued to push down harder even when my nerves and brain senses told me to stop. I pushed down, further and further until the red liquid spilled out. I sighed out, whimpering a bit at the pain. It felt cold and sharp but warm and smooth at the same time. It was such a strange new sensation. The scissors were now drowned in my blood from my open flesh. I just let it happen though, like I said: I deserve this.      > Day 5 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- April 3rd, 2021 Day 5: It’s a new feeling. Sure, I normally wear long sleeves or a jacket everyday but that’s just because I want to; now I have to. I'm not the best actress, that’s Rarity’s thing. But luckily I've had enough practice faking smiles that I don't think any of my friends suspect anything. Well, I think Sunset does. She kept staring at me suspiciously and even somewhat was examining my arms even if they were covered by the jacket. Eventually they will find out, I'm sure of it. But until that day comes I'll keep doing this, living in denial and constant anxiety that my secret will get exposed and I will lose them because they will think that I'm crazy or something. I mean, I think I’m crazy.  Something that’s not helping at all is the fact that it’s getting warmer out, today I almost drowned in my own sweat. Sitting in health class was especially irritating, it felt like my skin was peeling off. The warmth of the sun peaking through the windows hitting me from behind my back, sending goosebumps down my spine. The overwhelming feeling only grew worse as I could feel my sweat dripping under my jacket. Oh how I wanted to just rip it off me at that moment, but my anxiety and insecurities over my arms outweighed that urge.  I couldn't handle it anymore, I raised my hand and frantically explained to the teacher that I had to use the bathroom. She didn't even give me an answer before I was already out of the door, I slammed the bathroom stall door and started to walk in place.  My body was the most uncomfortable it had ever been, peeling my jacket off my sweaty skin. I lay eyes on my red irritated arm.  ‘Is it infected? I wouldn’t even care if it was.’ I thought to myself as I couldn't stop the tears from coming, I began to hyperventilate and couldn't keep it in any longer. I reached in my bag, each tear falling onto the scissors I pulled out. I stopped and pleaded, pleaded that somehow someway someone would come in and stop me. But no one did.                                                                                  > Day 20 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- August 15th, 2021 Day 20:  I stayed inside today, woke up feeling that same feeling. I went to the shower this time, I’ve gotten so used to this that at this point I have an entire routine. Step 1: Clean the scissors, step 2: cut, step 3: clean myself off, step 4: grab the safety kit and soak up the blood. But no matter how many times I do it, it never gets easier. I know this is wrong. Yes, a part of me knows that I don't have to do this, that I can be happy. But how? That was the question. A question I ponder a lot. Happiness? What is that even? Why do certain things that bring me joy feel like not enough? Isn't it messed up that the reason I don't ever try to end it all is because I don't want to hurt the people I care about?  I know that if I told my friends they would immediately say things like. “Don't do this. Stop, please? For us?”  But doesn't that sound like guilt tripping? I feel like that’s unfair to me, but then again since when did I deserve fairness? If I were to tell them I would jump off a bridge and they call 911 to save me. Is that betrayal? Or does that make them good friends? I don't want to die though, I have too many things in my life that keep me alive, but I just feel like: would I even be really missed? I remember the school shooting threat we had a while back and all of the students flinched or panicked. Maybe even called their family. I didn't move a muscle.  After the threat was disproven I remember Sunset rushing up to me and hugging me tightly saying. “I don't know what I would have done if I lost you.” You would have been glad, glad that I no longer burden you. But now whether I want to burden you or not you are. Today Sunset found my diary. I don’t think she saw a lot, just the first sentence maybe. But still it was enough to show her, show her that I’m not the confident and brave person I pretend to be. I really hope this doesn't ruin everything between us, she is my best friend and I don't want to lose her because she thinks I'm some psycho liar. I just wish things could be instantly better, but I know they can't. So i'll just stay here, covered in open wounds as I continue to ponder and cry.