Tears of blood.

The sound of metal against skin filled my ears. Pain radiated through out my body. Drip, drip drip. The blood fell on my floor, my body and on my knife. Tears slide silently down my face as I grimmanced. This was my life. The cutter. The freak. The emo.

"Lia? Lia are up there?" My mother's voice rang out like chimes. Annoying chimes. I put my knife back into a drawer, rumpled my red tank top, wiped my tears and hid my cut best I could.
"I'm here Mom." my own voice reached the ears of a pretty blonde middle aged woman.

She walked into my room with a smile.I smiled back as my self-aflicted wound burned. My mom sat on my bed and ruffled my chocolate hair.
"Hey sweetums. Your father and I are going to be out until late tonight. I hope you don't mind." I shook my head. Mom and Dad always went out late on Friday nights. I would know, thoughs are the nights Erin and I grab some booze and drink.
My mom left me and I went back to cutting myself. It hurt so bad but it beat the emotional pain for a little bit. I take abit to put some salt in the wounds. I stiffled a short scream.

I looked at my cuts again. Deep but thankfuly not deep enough for stiches. Now I supose you're wondering why I would cut myself, yes? No It's not my parents or any of my family it's school. I've never fit in and even before the cutting I knew I never would. Kids would pick on my because of my baby fat. In middle school I desided to change that. After I ate I would go into the bathroom, shove my fingers down my throught and puke up everything I ate. Or I would simply not eat. I lost weight quickly.

Then I was still called a freak. I don't know why, why I was still left out. So one day I picked up the swiss army knife my dad gave me for my 11th brith day and started cutting. The physical pain relived the emotional pain for a small bit. I soon learned that putting salt on and in the wound made the pain last longer and hurt even more.

I'm just glad I'm not alone. I do have a couple of friends; my kitten, Nascar and my human friend, Erin. We've been best friends since the 6th grade. Now we're in Junoir year in high school. The two emos. I looked out my bedroom window and watched my parents leave. As soon as I deemed it safe I picked up the black cell phone and called Erin.

"Hello?" a drowesy voice answered. So clasic Erin.
'Hey, Erin. Can you sleep over tonight?"
"It's friday night already? Where has the week gone by?" Erin laughed. That was a joke between us. Erin was always confused so her forgeting drinking night was normal.
"Yes. Now come on. Rember not to leave Jack behind." Jack was codeword for booze. Erin agreed and hung up.
OOC; I'm not done yet but I will finish asap.

Nice...