Lilith's POV

Another pointless day.

  I awoke to the sound of my alarm clock blasting through my speaker that was set on my nightstand.

  I turned off the ringing and got up slowly so I could have a chance to wake up a little before I turned on my light.

  My clock read 5:45. That was when agony and stress got to me the most, considering I only slept for three hours.

  The music I played from my iPod slowly filled my room with the sound of the Misfits and Black Veil Brides mix I had made the week end before.

  'Oh shit,' I thought to myself, 'it's only Tuesday!' This week couldn't pass by any slower!

  Just the other day I swear it was already Friday. Well, maybe I can get a break from this at Warped Tour this weekend.

  I sighed as I got undressed and stepped into my cold shower. My little sister had just finished and I almost went insane at the amount of hot water she took up.

  It was the middle of November so the water heater was slow and cold. I got my hair shampooed and conditioned, I shaved my underarms and almost my legs but I got too cold and lazy.

  I stepped out of the shower and looked at my scar tissue covered body. My arms, legs, stomach, chest, anywhere you can think of really, were covered in pink and purple masses of repulsive scar tissue from self-mutilation.

  I groaned at the fact I had let it get this bad. Ever since I was 10, my mom had dated abusive and molesting men from ages 25-40 and they all did the same thing; tried to rape or hit me.

  When they realize that my mom had such a shitty family, they left her. As for my father, he left after I was born because he was an addict and he didn't want to get us all caught up in it.

  I never got to see him ever and I'm bitched at because 'I caused my dysfunctional family problems.' And 'They would have a better life with out me.'

  Anyways, I put on my Misfits sweatshirt on over my white cami with skulls on it, grey and blue skinny jeans, and some black boots that my mom had got me when I was younger, realizing I was destined to be a rocker/punker kid, but never realizing that I would be one of the self-destructive kind of rocker kids.

  She still doesn't know. Yeah, I know having six years in long sleeves and not swimming or anything would be difficult to uphold but it happened.

  I grabbed my straightener and hair dryer as I changed my music to a little be happier songs like Sleeping With Sirens.

  I only liked their old music though. They have newer stuff but they're fading into the poppy/fake scene of music.

  They were a really nice band, but they changed so much in the last few years. After I straightened my hair and put in some extensions to make it look longer, I pinned up my fringe on the side and got my bag and left.

  I don't bother with getting food for myself in the morning anymore. I don't see the point.

  I eat a couple times a week if I'm lucky enough to want to eat without feeling sick. I walked over to the bus with my iPod in my hand and I sat in the very front seat, knowing if I walked any farther back, Josh with mess with me.

  Josh was my boyfriend in middle school until he saw my arms one day when I was about to do the dishes at my house when he was over.

  He had looked at me and said, "Why, Lil?" After he had said that to me that day, he treated me like shit.

  I'm beaten down and bullied by him at leave four times a week severely and no one cares.

Not even the teachers.

  I guess you could say I'm a fat, ugly, emo. It's what the boys at school say at least. The bus stopped at the school and I decided to make a run for first hour.

  At least there, the teachers would keep and eye on people and it wouldn't be so crazy.

  I turned on my iPod and let Andy Biersack's words lift my feeling a bit. It was a study hall hour so I just sat and drew pictures.

  Others took pictures of me and drew on them and put them in their snapchats, sending me one in the process every time.

They were the same thing over and over.

Fat.

Ugly.

Weird.

Insane.

Creepy.

Worthless.

Emo.

Cutter.

  Those were the worst of them to say the least. They also drew men's private parts by my face when they got bored.

  I laughed at the effect they had on me. Why did it affect me so much?! Am I really that pathetic?!

  The rest of the hour I listened to music and ignored their words of hate. I just finished my drawing of a broken angel wing and a tear drop falling from it until the hour suddenly ended.

  It went by much faster than usual, which wasn't a good thing. Next hour I have to participate and read out loud, which, if I haven't mentioned, I'm horrible at.

  The class bell rang and I headed out the door and into the bathroom to have a minute to myself.

  I sat on the floor in the big stall and I continued to listen to music until I heard the bell go off again.

  Then I skipped down the hallway fast so I could exit the building and go home without the bitchy desk lady noticing I left.

  I looked at my phone and I saw all the messages I got from people. Fat.

Ugly.

Pathetic.

Worthless.

Weird.

Useless.

Freak.

Maybe tomorrow will be better?