Or At Least That Is What I Told My Mom

Today I was washing dishes and the knife slipped out of my hand and fell on my foot, subsequently stabbing my toe.

Or at least that is what I told my Mom.

The truth is I sat in the corner of my room and cried, contemplating life.

When I was done I went and got the sharpest knife from the kitchen and held it to my throat while looking at myself in the mirror.

I started to cry and let go immediately and that is really how the knife fell on my foot and blood ended up all over the bathroom floor.

I knew that it looked suspicious so I tracked my blood on the kitchen floor.

I am such a dumbass; I couldn't even hurt myself right.

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