My Story

Our Stories

        Ava and I agreed to meet at the park every Saturday.  It gave us something to do instead of staying locked up in our rooms at home.  We're both still seeing each other in the group, which is four days a week, but we'd rather talk to ourselves, and about whatever we want.

        ''I started cutting when I was nearly ten.  At first it was by accident, then I realized how good it felt, and so I did it again, and again, and again.  I didn't think there was much harm in it.  I had also burned my legs with a lighter when I was thirteen.''

        That day Ava was sitting on my lap, under the tree that we always sat under.  She was leaning against me fiddling with her hair as she actually told me how everything was with her.

        ''And nearly a year ago I attempted suicide.  I tried cutting a vein open, but I didn't cut it deep enough and my brother barged into the bathroom cause he kept saying I was taking too long to get ready.  My parents didn't care really.  They acted worried and terrified when they were around anyone else, but once the doctors would leave the room at the hospital they would say how stupid I was for trying, or even question how I was such a failure that I couldn't even kill myself.''

        She started to have tears roll down her face.  I put my arms her and hugs her, bringing her closer to me.  ''You don't have to tell me any more if you don't want to.  I don't want you crying,'' I wiped the few tears off her face.  She shakes her head, tell him that its fine.  ''Do you still cut?'' he moved his hand down onto her left wrist, as well as looking at it.

        She quickly moved it away, then suddenly looks sad.  ''Yeah, I do.  I never really stopped.''

        He pauses, getting enough courage to ask.  ''Do you mind if I see them?''

        It seemed like she really had to think about it.  She pulled up her sleeve and she had a white bandage all up her forearm.  On the underside of her arm you cold see the blood seeping though.  ''If I didn't have to unwrap this, then wrap it again, I would, but my parents would probably beat me if they found out I took this off again.''

        I pulled her sleeve back down.  Me and her were just friends, but we were really close.  We didn't have any other friends.  Maybe though few people in our classes, but no one to actually count on, or that actually knew us.  ''So, how did you get stuck in group?''

        ''Like you, I tried suicide, only, I got caught like three times.  The first time my parents found a gun in my room and I was twelve, how I got the gun I'll just say that I know people, the second, I did the same as you, I was a few months away from being fourteen, and I wasn't at home, someone found me and called 911, the third, I tried to over dose, as well as drinking alcohol along with it, that was right before I turned sixteen.  My parents have actually told me to go die, or to go kill myself before, so I tried, I don't know why they called 911.  I was in a hospital for nearly a year, my parents actually forgot I was in there, then afterwords I was sent to group.''

        Next thing I knew her arms were wrapped around me tightly.  I wasn't tearing up at all.  I've told my story too many times for it to have an affect on me anymore.  But Ava cared about me, and her knowing that I tried three times really hurt her.  Sometimes I wish I never told her, but other times, its nice to have someone know your story.