authors note

One cut. It wasn't enough
Two cuts. Maybe these baby cuts are not enough I thought to my self
Three cuts. I started pushing harder
Four cuts. I went faster
Five cuts. I saw my skin split as I did that one. I watched as my blood gushed from my arm to the floor. I didn't even care at this point. I felt broken. No one cared. No one would ever care. Who would even notice if I was gone. Who would come to my funeral. No one. Who would morn for me. No one.
Six cuts. Another gash appeared . go big or go home I guess.
Seven cuts. I felt something pop. My arm was covered in blood. I couldn't see my skin anymore. My floor was drenched in my red crimson color. Maybe this was the end.