I'm not like them!

                    I look at myself in the mirrior and I catch myself thinking "I wish I was pretty like them" I look down at the picture in the magazine next to me and I want to throw up. "I could never be as pretty as them" I look at the razor blade sitting silently on the sink, waiting, wanting to be used. I also find a pair of sissors in the cabint. Holding both in my hands I feel them burning. I take the sissors first. Snip Snip Snip Little by litte I watch the lenght of my hair grow shorter as each layer falls to the floor. next, the razor. I clentch down on the handle of my hair brush. Every cut I make burns. It hurts so good I almost don't stop when the blood reaches the surface. I know it's wrong but it feels so right. Once I'm finished I take one more glance in the mirrior and smile. There, now maybe they will see my pain I hear the car out front. My parents are home now. I try to clean up the mess before they get inside but I start to feel woozy and disy. The room is getting dimmer now and I'm starting to lose conciousness. I'm fading in and out as the footsteps get closer. Hunny, were home! Let them find me I"m not the perfect little angel they think I am. I'm not as pretty as them!