Novels About Self-harm Novels & Stories

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Content warning: This book contains strong language and sensitive content such as sexual harassment, self-harm, and intimate scenes that may not be suitable for young readers. Read at your own risk. La Cuevas #1: When The Star Falls ✓ La Cuevas #2: Hazards of Love

I was under a blood pact, basically tied to Tristan’s order. CONTENT WARNING: this chapter explores themes of self harm/suicide which may be distressing for some readers. Readers discretion is advised. If you need to skip it to take a break, that's okay. Your mental peace matters. When I arrived at what I now called my room, relief settled on my shoulders like oxygen after almost drowning.

I intend to give this Reid guy a piece of my mind, but a look from Ryder tells me that going after her is a better use of my time than beating the kid to a pulp. With a groan, I grab his collar. "You're fucking lucky its Ryder." And toss him harshly walking to Ryder. "Leave some meat for me." I whisper to him. I can already guess the only place she would go, the river. Soft thuds reach my ears as I see her banging her head against a large tree. My mind quickly flashes to the time I used to self harm as a kid. Something I wouldn’t wish on anyone. And even though I managed to stop without therapy, I knew many kids I used to live with in foster home that didn't get so lucky. Some are either dea

“So this is the wonderful solution you could come up with? Why are you like this, William? Do you actually think that harming yourself will solve anything?” “No,” he said, before pausing with consideration. “I’ve hurt you and Daniel in unimaginable ways, and I should make up for it with my life. It’s true, we lost Daniel forever and I can’t buy his life back. But when I harm myself, I feel a sense of relief. I—”

Warning: This includes self-harm. Read at your own risk. Nalya The ache in my chest grew, and my wolf was silent. I couldn't feel her anymore after she said she needed some time to accept the rejection like he wanted. I cried when I remembered my mate rejected me. I tried to sleep off the pain in my heart, but it was still there. I got a razor blade and cut my inner thighs. It was a habit of mine growing up. Self-injury helped me cope with emotional pain and sadness. It brought me a sense of calm and relief. I made the same pattern I always did, going deeper and deeper into my skin this time. I sighed in relief as I continued my action. I closed my eyes, feeling better now. I threw the razor

*** Trigger Warning*** This chapter talks about a suic*de attempt and self-harming. CRYSTAL When Jonah left from my window, I sat back against the wall with tears rolling down my face and grabbed my bottle of anti-depressant medication, and took 4 of them at once. I closed my eyes and tried to picture my mom holding me when I was a kid but I couldn't. I kept seeing his face and hearing him in my head admit everything, hurt so much more than the night he told me. I took another pill and picked up my pocket knife and cut another line into my wrist then another. I was done with all the pain I have had to go through in my life. I didn't want to live anymore. I cut a couple more lines on my wrist

Rafe hissed in pain as the liquid touched his very fresh and watery wounds. “Kaella told me that Lexie passed out last night. Does that have anything to do with these injuries?” "I made a mistake and I've made up for it by whipping myself fifty times." "You shouldn't have done that." Betty threw away the bloodied cotton swab and replaced it with a new one. "Only then can I forget all my regrets." "Didn't your psychiatrist tell you that self-harm isn't the solution. It was just a momentary gratification. You will keep repeating the same mistakes next time.”

"That's so sick, we knew she was mental, but to go so far so as to kill someone. . ." "Those two were her bullies, she must have done it out of revenge." "Don't go near her, don't speak to her, she might kill you." Cathdra heard them all. The whispers. The accusations. How much should they drain her of life before they would stop killing her with their words? How much more do they have to take from her to be satisfied? She stayed holed inside her room and began to write. She read all the fairy tales she could lay her hands on. She put into words all she saw from the moving picture.

I left Aaron for the meantime on the part where the fountain pens are to go to the novel section. Since I saw Sophie Lark's Brutal Prince on TikTok's recommendation, people who have read this say that it has a strong female lead. I enjoy books of that genre, therefore I may be interested in reading it. I looked at the shelves. I also picked up a book and read the synopsis on the back when Aaron came to me here. "You like reading books?" he asked. I turned my eyes on him, "Uh, sometimes. If I'm interested in the plot," I answered.

I was a terrible insomniac, and every time I closed my eyes, I could only see her lifeless body on that hospital bed. I did take drugs; I even went to stupid therapy, but it was all useless. The sleeping pills did nothing. The warm milk? A stupid idea. The therapy? All for nothing. I mean, what’s the use of therapy when all they focus on is the fact that you might have PTSD? Of course, you pay, and you get nothing but textbook words. Self-harming helps. I can’t sleep, and then when I do it, I get at least a few hours of rest. That’s been my go-to. That has been my life for years. That has been my demon.