The girl wrong

Chapter 2

The sound of the cell phone interrupted my thinking. Eva, my best friend, was calling me, I wanted to answer her but couldn't or the carabinieri would track me down. Suddenly I felt my airway tighten and the airflow depleted until I fainted. When I woke up, I found myself in the hospital. My first question was, how had I ended up there? Who had taken me there? The doctors were talking to me but I was not listening to them, I was thinking how I could escape from that place. If they had known who I was, they would have called the police right away, if they hadn't already, to say that I was there and surely they would have taken me home and hell would have started again. I hoped they wouldn't see the cuts and bruises:

1. Because otherwise they would have detained me under the guise of self-harm and sent me to a psychiatrist;

2. They would ask me who gave me those bruises, and I still didn't feel like reporting my parents.

The doctors fortunately had not found out, at least they had not asked me about it. They left me to rest, but I had to find a way to leave, I had no time to relax. First I needed to punish myself, to cut myself, for everything I was, or wasn't, because I was sure I was going to go home, etc....

You know, I started by accident, the first time I cut myself with a glass from a broken glass, I found that it didn't hurt, in fact, it felt good, as if everything I felt inside could come out in blood; I was able to hide the sadness, anxiety, depression, bulimia and bullying in this way, making them things to laugh about. After several attempts to stop hurting myself, having failed to do so, I was still in a tunnel with no way out and from which I may not even have wanted to get out. But now it was time to think how to get out of that kind of prison.

I looked out the door, there were too many people, I could not have gone through the hallway, I would have had to find another way; so I sat on the bed. I had to wait until I could think of some idea, and this had to happen soon.