Phoebe's POV

The blood from my fresh cuts were now slowly going down my body, down my stomach, down my thighs, down my everywhere, mixing with the water coming from my shower, painting my bathtub a crimson shade. It was a blood bath. I stood there motionlessly with my eyes closed as the water fell on my bare skin. I was drowning, drowning in my sorrows, in my grief and in everything that revolved around pain. My whole being was in a turmoil.

The physical pain was bearable, in fact...I think it was pleasurable. But what about the pain in my heart, in my chest, in my whole emotional being. It was awfully unbearable. I tried...tried everything my human brain could think of to make it stop but...but nothing ever really works. It never works and the pain just never fucking STOPS! It just goes on and on as if I'm in an effing loop.

I opened my eyes and the blood that was earlier covering me had now been fully cleaned from my body only leaving the deep cruel cuts I made on myself visible. The blood was finally gone, and for a moment I felt relaxed, wait...This was it!...I felt relaxed! Maybe the pain had gone away...may...maybe it went down my bathtub drainage together with the blood. I finally did it! I finally got rid of the pain! "NO MORE PAIN!" A voice shouted inside my half working but racing mind. A smirk so unrecognizable, unknowingly plastered itself on my face.

I stretched my hand and turned off the shower and guess what?... All the fucking ass pain my dumb brain thought I had conquered came crushing down on me threatening to bury me and my conscience alive. The pain was flowing, no...flowing is an understatement. It was FLOODING my veins, my brain, my chest, my lungs, my heart and was now on the verge of suffocating me. I could feel it everywhere, even in my bones.

I wasn't really surprised, my gut feeling sensed this...my...my inner eyes saw this coming. I knew that feeling of conquering pain wasn't gonna last for long. Who was I even kidding anyway, why on earth would the pain just go away so easily? But still...why wouldn't it go away!!? What had I done to deserve all this endless pain? Was I really destined to suffer till death? Was my fate not anywhere close to happiness? I hated that I was scared to die and I hated it more that only death seemed to be my only salvation. Why was my life this damned?

All the tears that I had been trying to hold back since forever, now threatened to spill from my swollen and puffy eyes. GOSH! I was such a crybaby for fuck's sake! I got out of the bathroom and walked inside my room until I stopped right in front of the mirror. Expressionlessly, I looked at my reflection for what seemed like a season but was probably just a few minutes.

Scars on my arms, old cuts that were now healing, newly made cuts that sliced through the old ones, purple marks on my skin, bruises from my father's daily assault, red ,swollen, and puffy eyes. I was a walking disaster! My hand instinctively went to my face and my fingers stopped just below my yes. Damn! For a moment I thought I was looking at a zombie.

"Freaking hell...I...look...I look like shit." I whispered to to myself...or rather to no one in particular. Even the ghosts wouldn't care to listen. A small chuckle escaped my throat. Great! Just what I needed. I not only felt like shit, I was treated like shit, and to top it all up with a cherry on top, my goddamned self had to also go ahead and LOOK like shit. AND NOW I JUST MADE A FUCKING SHITTY RHYME!!!