This story contains mature themes including emotional trauma, mental health struggles, and strong language. Reader discretion is advised

Chapter 3 (Charlie's POV)

I look at my hands. 

Blood. 
A thin cut on my upper arm. Warm blood trickles down. 
Kara’s crying. 
Mum and Dad are yelling. 

“Mum, Kara’s crying. Dad, I’m bleeding.” 

They don’t even look at me — 
as if I don’t exist. 

Perhaps they can’t hear me. 

“Mum… Dad… please. Stop shouting. Help me.” 

They disappear and so does kara and all the noises. 

Its pin drop silent.

I’m all alone. In the dark. Bleeding out. 
So alone. 
So, so alone. 

I need to empty my thoughts. 

i see a knife. perhaps physical pain will take over my emotional pain.  

I scream. 

-------- 

I wake up, breathing heavily.It was a dream.Just a dream.I’m fine.Ill be ok. 

Help me 

Gwen sits up beside me. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice still half-asleep. 

“Nothing. Don’t worry. Go to sleep.” 

Lies. 

“…Okay then.” 
She drifts off again. 

She looks so peacful,her mind is probably filled with happy thoughts and memories. 

unlike me