Novel & Cerita Story Of Self Harm

he sounded sad. “Why?’ I asked “I lost two of my children to self-harm,” he took a deep breath and continued, “I was always on business trips, I always wanted more money, I enjoyed the dinners, the galas, the trips, and sometimes I even forgot I had families. My wife thought I was cheating, and she left; I wasn’t an asshole who would cheat, but no matter how much I explained to her, she wouldn’t listen, and she left” he took a break from his story, went to the water dispenser and grabbed a cup of water and came back to sit, he placed the water in front of me while looking more relaxed than he did before standing up, and I realized he needed the break.

He gave me a cocky grin and walked out. Bastard. --- *Later that evening* "Elaina." "Elaina." "Elaina, can you hear me?" I slowly opened my eyes to see Adrian staring down at me. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he screamed, and I just lay there looking at him, numb. It had been exactly six months since I'd been free from self-harm. Six months of drowning my pain in books and movies. Until this night… I took a glance at myself one last time as I lay sprawled up on the bathroom floor, bleeding.

The children noticed subtle changes: a softer tone here, a brief moment of laughter there, the beginnings of apologies and acknowledgment of harm. Mathapelo began writing in her journal, a practice she had abandoned long ago. Each entry became a mirror, reflecting her fears, regrets, and small victories. She documented her interactions with her children, her attempts at patience, and her moments of relapse. Slowly, the writing became a lifeline, a bridge between self-destruction and conscious effort.

Melissa’s discarded pregnancy test was swept into the trash can. I agreed without hesitation. If Benedict wanted to play dead, I should play the part of a wife who died out of love, too. With my ten previous suicide attempts on record, the motive was solid. No one would suspect a thing. I smiled faintly. I opened the encrypted file and registered myself with a new identity. ... That evening, as a nurse was changing my bandages, Benedict walked in. He looked at the gauze wrapped around me, and a flicker of discomfort crossed his face.

I died. A psychotic episode drove me to self-harm, and it killed me. Just yesterday, I had been actively cooperating with my treatment. The doctor had even said I'd recover soon and be discharged from the hospital. But now I was dead. I couldn't accept it because my self-harm hadn't been voluntary. In that moment, it felt as though an outside force had taken control of my body. No matter how hard I struggled, I couldn't resist. The sharpened toothbrush plunged straight into my carotid artery, and the resulting blood loss killed me.

“Has your wife been like this for a long time, or do you notice that she often has scratches on her forearm?” “I’m not sure. She used to wear long-sleeves almost every day, so I didn’t notice her forearm. Whenever she’s not wearing a long sleeve, I don’t notice any wounds on her forearm.” “Your wife wears long-sleeved clothes to hide her wound, and only when her wound heals does she stop wearing long-sleeved clothes. In that case and also based on this video, your wife is suffering from Self-h*rm d*sorder.” “Self-harm? She hurts herself? Why would she do that?”

I owed you, now I don't. Loria laughs then says "What's happening?" " Dr. Markus tells her "First, you tried to kill yourself by telling the officials you're mixed, then you literally directly tried when it didn't work obviously." Loria told Dr. Markus "I never tried to kill myself, I jumped in the lake or whatever, pond? River? Who knows, then..." Referencing to the self-harm, "...It was an accident." Dr. Markus feels bad for her and says "Okay."

"Hi, Mandy." The amount of voices speaking back to me is more than I thought there would be when I came into this room, but as the time came closer for the meeting, people just kept streaming in. So here I am with a bunch of people I don't know, trying to fix a life that's gone completely sideways. "I tried to kill myself too," one of the girls sitting on the opposite side of the circle from me says. "Went at my wrist with a pink razor, complete with moisturizing strip."

"So deal, okay?" "What about?" "If you kill yourself, I'll kill myself too." "Alright. But if you kill yourself, then I'll kill myself." "Okay." Audrey Simmons is suicidal. Cayden Nowell is too. But when they were about to kill themselves, they met each other on the same rooftop. And so, they made a pact. A suicide pact. This is a story about a boy and a girl who tries too hard to fit into their group of friends but constantly failed.

Before you start i just want to make sure everyone understands that I definitely disagree with what Alex did in the last chapter or what he'll do in this one. I surely don't encourage self-harm in any way, and i am 100% sure it is never the way to overcome anything, there is always a better way to move on from any problem you may face in life. Just put in mind, the character's choice is their own and not mine. Oh and btw, it's not edited XD