Painful Memories
I reach over to my nightstand and my hand closes around the cold metal. I can hear his voice, see his face. I hear the horrible insults that come from him. I tell myself that it is the alcohol that is causing him to say the words, but know that it won’t take away the pain the words cause. I feel the metal heavy and dense the only thing that can save me from loosing control.
“It is my fault” I tell myself as tears stream down my face. I look at the scars on my arm as sadness turns to anger. I glance at my dresser and see the picture of my mom. Her blonde hair and radiant green eyes so much like my own. I remember the day I took that picture.
It was a hot and sunny day, I remember it clearly. My mom and my dad took me to the park. I was five and it was a year before the tragedy. They looked happy sitting together on the picnic blanket. I remember running around in my bright pink summer dress, my hair pulled back in a ponytail and my silver sandals shining in the sun, as I run feeling the cool breeze on my face.
The anger boils up in me as the memory flashes in my mind. My mother smiling and happy. I take the metal and slice it across my arm with each memory that comes to my mind.
The day dragged on and I was happy as I climbed trees and ran through the grass. I was naive thinking how every day could be this perfect. My mom and dad chased me around the park as i screamed and laughed with each playful lunge.
“I miss you” I whisper as I slice the metal across my skin. Pain shoots through my arm as I slice it with the razor. Tears run down my face as I think about the past and how things used to be. My family was together, my father was happy, my mother was here. Thinking about my mother makes me cry harder, but still the memories flash and burn in my mind.
I laugh and giggle as my father grabs me around the waist and lifts me into the air and spins me around. I remember shrieking in delight as I fly through the air. I remember him setting me down and walking to sit down on the blanket again as my mother chases me around the park. Tripping on a rock and tumbling to the ground as my mother goes down with me and we laugh together, cause we were just so happy.
The physical pain starts to take away my mental anguish as each cut stands as a mark. A mark of what was, and what will never be again. I feel the blood thick and red run down my arm in streams.
My head spins but I hold my mother close and we walk back to the picnic to pack up and leave.
“Will we come back” I remember asking looking up into my mothers smiling face and seeing all the love and warmth in her green eyes. She nods but I already knew the answer.
We reach my father who is putting away the picnic and he leans down and kisses my head. I remember being something precious something loved. I remember my father before the alcohol.
Every slash to my skin doesn’t seem to help. The anger and frustration boil up and I slash at my arm wildly, without purpose. I feel the pain, see the blood and finally the memories stop. I push it all to the back of my mind and wait. I wait till the blood stops, I wait till the pain burns into my soul. I wait for the day i don’t have to cut anymore.
I clean the blood off and bandage the wound and tuck myself into bed. I turn off the light and crawl into bed and sad and alone I eventually cry myself to sleep.
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
HELLO!
So Keep up your writing! And don't forget to smile, it keeps the demons away. 
My name is Jay and, I absolutely love the topic of your story! I am a weird person and I love, love, LOVE stories that deal with mental disorders, drug addicts, self-harming, and anything that deals with a depressing story-line. And I am like drawn to these stories like a moth to a light, and well I quiet enjoyed your story here.
What I enjoyed the most about it was the fact that you gave this character as sense of reassurance as to why it is this character does what it is they do! I literally don't feel pity for him/her, but I get enough insight as to why they feel the way they do. So good job!
I am a very descriptive writer, I haven't wrote a lot but I love, love, LOVE detail. I want to feel that chill that crawls from the bottom of my tailbone to the back of the fine hairs that stand in the back of my neck. So if I have a few pointers, since I am giving a review, is not to be afraid to add detail, to let the descriptions flow through the words and spring out of the spaces in between. But I really did enjoy this story!
Kk, BYEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!
-Jay.xx.
Hi musiclover11,
Reading this short story, made me feel sick to my stomach in a way, and yet to feel compassion as well. The story could have been colored a bit more. But it is a good start, as was said before.
Good luck with your work!
- Bianca
thanks XD
Hi. I am LadyPurple here to deliver a review! Everyone else has touched on some very good points do I won't bug you with those. My only nit pick is punctuation at the end of dialogue. You lack it. That is all for me here. Except I wish to add that I do like this a lot! A nice way to start off.
~LadyPurple
Thank you I'm glad you liked it I will try to fix this. XD
Helllllllllo Scandalous Phoenixx harrrr!
I am going to review this for you so yepp.
Overall, this was a good beginning of a story. It was very captivating and easy to read. The flow was good but I didn't really feel a part of the story. I felt your pain, but it didn't make me feel anything. I didn't feel the sadness and anger the character was feeling here. A tip to use would be to use stronger language. Use words that are easy but hold a lot of meaning. Like in some spots, you can talk about how chaos is your life since your father started drinking.
Also, when you were switching to the memories it was hard to figure it out because it was all in the present tense. A tip for that is to maybe use quotation marks around part of the memory. Like this:
"My head spins but I hold my mother close and we walk back to the picnic to pack up and leave.
“Will we come back” I remember asking looking up into my mothers smiling face and seeing all the love and warmth in her green eyes. She nods but I already knew the answer.
We reach my father who is putting away the picnic and he leans down and kisses my head. I remember being something precious something loved. I remember my father before the alcohol."
Well yep. This is it. If you ever need a review, I am here! Hope you find this hellppfull!<33
Thank you for the review it was very helpful. XD
Okay, so stories about uncontrollabe emo's really have a way of turning my day in on itself.
However, this was interesting. I really don't feel pity for emotional people who cut themselves. It really makes me sick. But this was well written and I appreciate that.
If this weren't a short story I would have more to say about this, more to critique. However, it isn't so I don't.
The idea/theme/ whatever is interesting, it helped me figure something out. It was efficiently written, without too much, or too little detail.
The first couple paragraphs are rather hard to understand, but it was enthralling, I read it easily, and found it interesting.
Good work, I must say!
Keep writing!
~Black~
thanks i'm glad you liked it XD