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Minutes, Hours, Days
*Drip *Drip *Drip One second each, that’s all she hears as the minutes, the hours, the days pass by. She was clean. She had everything going for her, colleges fighting over her, winning academic contests being won, basketball tournaments all over the country. She was making a name for herself. They were making a name for themselves, and they were good together. But now it’s all downhill from there.
She wasn’t clean anymore and he’s gone. Didn’t give a reason besides, he can’t do this with her anymore. So now the blood drips down to the carpet floor. That’s all she hears as the minutes, the hours, the days pass by. A long clean cut over wrist while more and more crimson blood oozes out.
Does she care that she is leaving her family behind? No, her family was the start of it. Does she care that she is throwing away everything she worked for? No, everyone goes to the same place at the end of the day. Does she care at all anymore? No, what’s the point after what she went through.
Abuse, suicide, cutting, loss, and around again. Over and over and over. It never stops as she hears the one thing that holding her back. *Drip *Drip *Drip The drip is all she hear over the minutes, the hours, the days. The blood is all she hears over the minutes, the hours, the days. Her life leaving is all she hears.
Over the minutes…
The hours…
The days…
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Inspired by personal experience.