I gamble with the devil all the time. I swear; I see those red pointy horns each time I…Well have a date with my pink buddy. I must have a thing for inviting myself though because he never expects my sudden appearance. He’s never clean. Never shiny. Never fresh. He’s always been used. Always rusted over with dried up anger and frustration. Always spoiled. But occasionally, I’ll find a replacement for him. A new, clean, shiny, and fresh date to share my feelings with- to spill out all my built up emotions. And who knows if he even wants to be my pain, feel my anger from the amount of pressure I make myself endure. I don’t care though. I wouldn’t change anything even if I did have control of it. (Because I totally don’t!) The razor bites string along my forearm like a sleeve. Scarlet rushes up to the surface of my skin. Soon it’s decorating my whole arm. I sit there silent, watching the blood pour out in drips. Who I am? What or who have I created? I watch myself from the outside of my own body; peering down from above. Who is that? That surely isn’t me, right? Please tell me that is NOT me! Madison wouldn’t do that to herself! I would not do that to my own flesh! But Madison was not there. She wasn’t inside her body at the moment. How long must I go on before discovering what is truly wrong with me? I can’t pretend any longer that I am even close to escaping the black hole that has consumed me for so long. Who expects me to anyway? God? Jesus? My parents? My friends? EVERYONE? (Well not including me anyway.) I wonder how crazy I really am. Like, how the hell does somebody get like me anyhow? What the f*** is wrong with me? I don’t even have it bad! AT ALL! It’s just my mind that I want to hide from. My mind is something that should be locked up forever in a jail cell, or the deepest crack you can find, before it makes a monster out of me. It should be shut away from anyone who doesn’t understand: which falls under everyone I know. Sometimes I lay back and sort through the deepest tunnels in my head, and try to figure out what exactly it is that I’m thinking. Forgiveness is something I’m not good at. I can’t say sorry. But who do I have to forgive? Myself? NEVER. Why do I have to be so different and out of the ordinary? Maybe it’s not me and everyone else? No….no, it couldn’t possibly be. Will I have to lose everything that means something to me for me to finally understand what I am doing wrong? I strive for my best; my 100% best! But, there’s always something in my way- like a huge boulder has just planted itself in my path. Adults seem to love me. They look who they see. But the tragedy in all of that is: I don’t know if she will still be there when Madison unlocks the key to escape. I’ve f***ed up every good relationship I have been in. I can’t even cuddle up to my mom without feeling like there’s some boundary, or this tension between us. There’s nothing more that I want but my mother’s love. I am a freak? I think my mom, who I am an exact replica of, hates my guts. I may be wrong though, because most of the time I am. The only man I can even come close to trusting is my father. The only people I love with all my heart are a handful of friends, my sisters, my mom, my dad, and my dearest Miley. Paige and Hannah are always sharing secrets, and only a few have come from my mouth. I am proud of myself for how far I’ve come, but I’m afraid that I’m falling backwards again. Back in the hole of darkness that I used to live in. My depression threatens to swallow me whole again. So far I’ve dug an outlet deep enough to take me under. I’ll surely drown in my own thoughts. For years now, I haven’t been handed a single positive answer. Who could God be using me for? Honestly, who could I possibly have affected? ME! SCREW UP ME! There’s more to this story than I will ever know. But I can’t stand not knowing! It eats away at my soul, utilizes all my best qualities, and abandons me; just leaves me with my sadness and confusion! I scare people! I frighten them, and they don’t even understand me! Do you know why I am so quick to react with violence and defensive measures? Because I never want to feel like someone has stolen something important from me ever again! I won’t go back to that state of mind where I felt attacked. I will never let someone break my heart again! I’ll show them. I’ll show you! A brighter day must be coming soon. I’m trying to look forward to it, but most of the time, the doubt I have takes over. My head thinks of the strangest, weirdest, sickest, and worst ideas. I know where they come from too; I just don’t like to admit it. I am a different person most of the time. I’ve grown quite good at putting on a brave face. I made the disguise myself, and for now, I think it has become permanent. I have tried to take it off. It won’t. Something inside me has been festering inside my heart for a very long time, and I can’t decide what it is. Maybe it’s been there all along. Is it heartbreak? Lust? Love? Desire? Trust? Longing? I don’t know. I don’t know anything! I don’t know who decided to put me on this earth, what made me crazy; hurt beyond repair. What’s wrong with me? I have NO F***ING IDEA! I’ve been pushed over the cliff of f***ed up! But actually, do you really want to know what made me like this? It’s the fact that I’m a good person- just like my beaten up mother. Pushed around and taken advantage of! Scars prove of how long we’ve taken it all on. She keeps it all in too-shuns it away with lock and key. Where’s the mercy? Missing. Lost. Stolen by the devil himself. Captured like a child who wandered too far astray from their mother. You know, I’m really wishing that the end of the world is tomorrow or December 21, 2012- whatever day! Whoever the f*** decided that anyway? Little s*** scientists who don’t believe in God, that’s who! I may seem all gloom and doom, but that’s because nobody understands me in this world. You can come super close to it, but you haven’t lived it through my eyes. I was created for a reason. A reason I have not yet come to know. But someday, I’ll be able to get up in the morning alive, and I’ll be able to fall asleep with the help of medication or crying. Some nights, when it’s pouring rain, I’ll lie awake waiting for the Trazadone to take affect; listening to patter of thunder. I open the window just so I can hear it better, and fall asleep-tuned out to the music of rain. A tempting decision to release my feelings to the razor takes over sometimes. Our date usually starts off with the sudden flood of tears stinging my eyes. Then, my body trembles as I reach for the blade. I grip it in my hand tightly, until my knuckles start to turn white. Wisped away in a cloud of smoke, the decision travels through my mind. Soon my emotion push towards yes! I cut my skin-not wincing once at the pain. My heart thrums inside my chest- threatening to burst. Our date ends. I run back to my room and slip on a sweatshirt, so nobody will suspect what wonderful scene just went down in the bathroom. I turn of the water-works, the lights, get under the blankets, and shut my eyes. This continuous cycle doesn’t stop, and has only just begun.