Okay, first off, my name is Jonathan Tauzell, but people call me many different things. I'm exceptionally short for a seventeen year old-which is how my friend Ben Karls gave me the nickname "the Bunny." I have short dirty blond hair, and really light green eyes. I'm very skinny, which a lot of people joke about-like saying they can see my ribs.
A little back round on myself-you might want to skip this. A little before this story happened, my step dad had passed way. He was taken away by Leukemia. He had been in my life ever since I was seven years old, and I definitely miss him. On another note, I'm a cutter. I've been one ever since I was thirteen-which is five four. A lot of my friends are cutters as well-like Jack Brenton(Yes, JackBrentonSucka) and I think he's been doing it for a couple months. I guess when it comes to it, I'm not such a big dreamer. When it comes to my cuts, they're not that bad like some people say. Luckily I've never hit a vein. By the way, I don't use a knife. I use a razor, after I take it out of the plastic, anyways.
Anyways, on with the story.
I think this was about a month ago, but I never got around to posting it.
It started off like a normal day for me. I had just finished cutting,-yes, I see someone for that-and I was currently watching Smosh on my computer. Someone messaged me on Facebook. It was my friend, Torey Kennedy. He had asked me if he could come over-his parents were fighting again. My parents were at work, so I said yes.
Now I knew that Torey was very into bondage. He has four older brothers, who had also picked up a love in bondage when they were younger. I never told Torey that I liked it, because it's basically one of my biggest secrets.
When he got to my house, he looked at me and frowned.
I going to stop here to tell you what I was wearing. I had on a Young and Reckless shirt, matched with a pair of black Adidas track pants. I had a DC hat on, and a pair of Vans.
Continuing, I shot him a glance. "What's wrong?" I asked.
"You cut again." he said, staring at my wrists with his dark brown eyes that matched his hair color. I sighed.
"Torey, we've talked about this." And we have. Multiple times. He hates it so much when I cut.
"Yeah, cause you need to stop." That's Torey, always telling me to stop.
"Let's talk about something else." I pleaded. Torey smirked.
I'll post part two later...