So as always, I was thnking of cutting myself again. I knew it would do no good just because I was bored. I picked up the scissors but put them down. Maybe my friend can help me, I thought. So I got onto my computer and went onto a site where I meet my best friend.
As I talked to him, I told him that I wanted tio and I didn;t think I coudl stop myself this time. He told me not to do it. To think of him. So as I thought of him, I calmed down. But I began to worry over him.
He told me he had a 9mm with him. I told him not to pick it upo that if he died I would kill myself. I cared so much about him. Too much maybe. I began to cry.
He picked up the gun and held it to his head. He told me he was going to pull the trigger. I told him, to stop but he pulled the trigger.
Instead of shooting his head, he shot his cat. So I felt better . I told him I cared a lot. THat he doesn’t deserve to die. But he insisted he shouldn’t live. I beggheds him not to do it.
But he held the gun to his head again. And he told me he was going to pull the trigger. I told him to stop, but he didn;t answer. After three to four minutes he finally answered saying he was ok.
As much as I was relieved, I cut myself that night. I cut up my arm…….badly…