Please, dont.

You wake up again with blood staining your underwear. You wish you could stop. After you change and go downstairs to get breakfast you realize, you forgot to hide the razor. You dash upstairs, and you see your sister holding your razorblade. You tell her to give it to you, but she doesn't listen. You see blood dripping on the floor and you run over to see if she's okay. She turns and you see the cuts on her legs and she says, I do it too. You are shocked and you grab the razor and tell her to get changed. You go back downstairs to find your cereal soggy. You throw it out and go outside to go for a morning run. When you get to town you see the police station empty. After the run your parents yell at you for not telling them where you were. They threaten to put you in a military school. You have had enough, you go to your room and lock the door. You take out the razor and you try to find some where to cut. You cut your wrist but it keeps bleeding. You didn't want to die. Nobody does ever.