Reflection

      Cassie looked into the mirror. Her old, worn out Vans were her only pair of shoes. Ragged black leggings fit snuggly on her spindly legs, and a long sleeve plaid shirt hung loosely on her shoulders. Her gaze made its way up to her forced smile. Her blue eyes were bright as if filled with joy, but the longer she stared into her eyes, the more she noticed the sadness buried within.
      She tested her smile in the mirror. Her eyes brightened, once more covering her sadness. Over the years, she had mastered the “fake happy smile.” After all, when you had years of practice, it no longer took much effort.
      She tugged at the sleeves of her shirt, making sure that the scars covering her wrists were not visible. Cassie did not cut very often anymore. She realized that cutting was just a form of momentary relief that led to more grief; cutting did not solve problems.
      She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her mother’s voice filled her head:
      “You’re such a little whore! Were you off with that Luke boy again? He’s just gonna do what all men do: knock you up and leave.” Her mother had grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels off the counter, stumbled into the living room, and passed out on the couch.
      Luke was her only friend. She knew he had the best intentions when he said he understood what she was going through, but she knew he had no idea what her life was like. He had a good life with parents that loved him. He was not called “freak,” “weirdo,” or “psycho” every day at school by his classmates. He did not cry himself to sleep every night wishing death would take over so he would no longer have to feel the pain.
      Cassie wiped the tears rolling down her cheeks with the cuff of her shirt. She grabbed the hair tie off her wrist and pulled her long brown hair into a bun. She turned on the warm water in the bath and started to fill the tub. From behind the toilet, she pulled out the straight razor hidden there. Setting the razor down on the edge of the bath, she took a deep breath and stripped her clothes. Slowly, she lowered her body into the water.
      Pulling her legs into her chest, Cassie rocked back and forth. She rested her forehead on her knees and sobbed. She took another deep breath and released her legs.
      It was time.
      She picked up the straight razor from the edge of the tub, pressed the blade into her forearm, and slit the blade down the length of her artery. She transferred the blade to her other hand and repeated the process. Lowering her arms into the bath, she let the darkness consume her.