13

Turning 13 as a girl is something nothing and no one can prepare you for. Suddenly all the magic is gone, replaced with the cold, hard, punch of reality; school goes from finger painting to solving for X, being told to cover up your shoulders because "it's too distracting” and “boys can't control themselves, you shouldn’t look so tempting.” Suddenly you have 12 missing assignments and no motivation. You go from loving your parents to fighting with them. They say your lazy, you tell them your stressed, depressed, you need help, but they don’t listen, and suddenly home doesn't feel like home, so you find comfort in other things, smoking, drinking, drugs…boys, they become your savior, which is a strange term to use, but it’s true; yet you hate them, you hate the message “Send pics” but crave the validation you know your going to get, you hate them leaving you on read, but crave the second that they’ll text back, it’s an addiction. But after a while it makes you numb, so in order to feel something, you turn to the blade. The first time wasn’t very deep, there wasn’t much red, but after every encounter, it gets deeper, the red flows for longer, creating rivers across your skin that flow like a forgotten melody, familiar, yet distant. And you realize, there's no hope, no love, the blade stops working, you need something better, stronger, permanent. So you do it, you think it will be better, you wont regret it, you down the pills in a quick motion, dropping the empty bottle…then you panic, you did it, there's no escaping it, your breathing shallows, vision blurs, you want to take it back, you pray, you try, but there's no getting out of it now, your too far in, and before you know it…your gone.