“Hey, ma’am may I going to the bathroom?” My face a perfect mix of pleading and smile to make sure she says yes. The teacher says yes of course and I rush out of the room without
making myself look too suspicious.
I make my way two the bathroom with eraser in hand with a blade right on top of it. Before I asked to go to the bathroom I had to make sure I could get out of the classroom with the sharp object without anyone else knowing. I slipped the eraser next to the blade and picked both up and then proceed to leave the room with stealth.
I walk into the bathroom to find to girls discussing of who they’re going to claw themselves into next. The second stall to the end seems like the best choice as always. It’s not to far away from the door and not to close, just in case something went down. Once the girls left I sat on the seat and pulled my pants down to the floor. I blankly stared at my scars and thought of how blank they made me feel. I want the feeling all over again.
Grabbing out the objects in my pocket I placed both of them on my bare legs. The cold metal over my scars on the right and the pink rubber over my left thigh. The choice was mine. Either go back to the blank feeling and be in peace for the next few minutes or disappoint my best friend. I just want to feel okay. That’s all I can think about after all I guess.
I place the rubber back inside my pocket and grab the blade with my right hand and place my left above my scars and pulled the skin forward a bit. I trace the marks on my skin with the sharp glistening blade. The blood takes only seconds to get to the surface. Its color looks darker than ever before.
“Why doesn’t it feel the same?” I whisper out loud. I’m not getting the peace I want, need, crave. Tears well in my eyes. I feel worse than before.
The door of the bathroom opens and I have to hold back a sob. I wipe my tears, pull up my pants, and walk out the doors back to class in sadness. It didn’t help at all… it made me worse. Why didn’t it feel the same?
