I had no idea what i was getting myself into. I held the sharp, cold razor blade to my skin. I held it there and just stared. I visalized the cut, planned it out. It was as if I was deciding how to cut my cake. Did i want a small piece, to give me a rush? Or did i want to go big, to feel the satisfaction of easing my own pain. Go big or go home right? I sliced a large cut on my arm, the blood oozed, warm and deep red. There was a knock on the bathroom door. Bang. Bang. "Dee? Hurry up, I gotta go." I cleaned my mess, the satisfaction still burning. I slid the sleeve of my shirt back down and opened the door. "Finally!" Sean inched past me and into the restroom. I started to walk back to my room. "Deanna," Sean's voice was shaking. He help up my razor blade and napkin, "What's this?" I felt my eyes open wide. "Nothing," i tried to lie. I walked toward him to take back my tool. He looked at my sleeve, the blood staining my shirt. "What are you doing to yourself?" he asked, a confused and hurt look on his face. "You wouldn't understand, no one understands. Let me be," I screamed. "Let you continue to hurt yourself? You're my sister. I can't watch you do this." "Then don't," i sat in my room and stared at my fresh cut, the burn was still there. It was all i needed to forget about his concern. My life continued to derail. I had nothing to live for, so i thought. Thoughts of death clouded my mind. All I wanted to do was hurt myself, I was unaware that i was hurting others. The day I decided to end it did not go as planned. I sat in my room and stared at my walls. Pictures of me and my brother, pictures of me and friends covered them. I took a stroll to the restroom, looking to relieve my pain. The medicine cabinet creaked open as I went to grab my razor. It wasn't there. Angry emotions gathered inside me. Sean. He took it. So, I went further. I popped open a bottle of my mom's prescription pain-killers. I dont know how many I took. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital bed. A nauseated feeling lingered. I turned and saw my brother sitting in a chair, my mom right next to them. Their eyes were puffy and red. Sean stood up and looked at me. He put on his best smile. "Hey," he said, his voice shaking. The same voice that spoke when he first saw how i was dealing with my pain. "I want to help," he managed to whisper. I nodded as my life suddenly started to make sense. I do have a purpose, and that purpose is to be here for my brother.