Spoiler
Rated 12+ because of reference to someone cutting themselves.
I leaned back against the wall, letting the blood flow from my arm to the floor, splattering as it hit the sea green tile. With each drop of blood that came out of me, I was reminded of my faults, my imperfections. They were abundant and apparent, I wasn’t able to hid them. People ignored me, they made fun of me, they tortured me.
Maybe they wouldn’t if I cleaned myself of every imperfection. The imperfections would flow out of me so I could start anew.
The bell rang out through the halls and reached my ears. I slowly stood up and packed the knife deep in my backpack. I emerged from my hiding space (the corner of the bathroom) and wandered over to the mirror. I stared at my reflection, not recognizing myself. Who was I anymore? Did I even have a reason for living?
Realizing that I was going to be late for class I rushed out of the bathroom. Going against the wave of students, I was rammed into and thrown from my path. Names were shouted at me, only dragging me deeper down into my hole of self pity. Rushing to my class, I stared at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. I didn't want them to see the true me, look into my soul. No one needed to know just how upsetting my life was.
I was suddenly knocked backwards and fell to the ground, letting out a yelp.
"Wow, I'm so sorry," a voice said as a hand reached down to help me. "Are you hurt?"
I was too shocked to accept the hand. I lifted myself off of the floor and looked up at who I ran into. I had never seen the boy before. His blue eyes shined down at me and his brown hair was a mess, but still looked nice. He was rather tall and towered over me, although I wasn't the tallest girl around.
I immediatly fell in love with him. Sure, I only just met him, but no one ever treated me like that, ever. I was the weirdo, the outcast, the one who no one would want to be seen with. But he was there for me, he didn't care what the others thought of him.
He led me to class and left for his, leaving me wanting to see him again. The next few weeks were the happiest I had ever been. I spent most of time with Eric (that's his name). We would study and do homework together, go out for ice cream, look up at the stars together, our bodies spread out on the same soft blanket.
For once in my life, I felt accepted. I had finally found someone who liked me for me and didn't judge by what they saw on the outside. Eric dug deeper than my scars and faults and found my heart. He didn't shrink away when he discovered my past, how I used to deal with with my less than perfect life.
School was suddenly easier. Eric taught me how to ignore all those who only wanted to hurt me. I stuck to him like glue and he didn't seem to mind. He was my best friend, but I wish we could've been more. Unfortunatly fate had a different idea in mind. Eric soon found a girlfriend and spent less time with me, but he was still there.
No one had ever cared about me like Eric. It was because of him that I turned my life around.
And I haven't touched a knife to my skin since.
I didn't find it a satisfactory ending, with the girlfriend part. In fact, I think that sentence is unnecessary. You've shown how Eric influenced her and turned her life around, now just leave it there, and let the reader draw their own conclusions. 
