My head is pounding, I can’t think. I can’t even talk. My mom asks me a question, I ignore her. I feel disgusting, my hair matted against my scalp. A strand falls in front of my face, I blow it out of my way angrily. I storm into my room, and slam the door. My heads pounding, everything sounds as if it’s screaming into my ears. I start heading down the hallway, although it is just a few steps it feels as if I have to travel a mile just to reach my room. My head is spinning, throbbing, hammering; I am hearing everything, the dog’s collar jingling in the family room, the humming of the dishwasher, and the shrieks of children playing on our swing set, its making my head pound. I burst into my room, and slam the door, as if it would block out the world. Frantically I start searching my desk, I need to find it. It will save me. My hand brushes along something metal. I grab it; the glistening metal in the faint light was heavenly. I quickly roll up my sleeve and take the razor blade and slash it across my forearm. Just like that the sounds disappear and my head starts clearing up. I flop onto my bed, blood trickling out of my arm. Blood slid down my arm, all the stress of school, sports, and family washed away in an instant. My breathing is fast; my chest rises and falls rapidly. The pain in my arm is real, and I’m alive. A tear slides down my cheek and lands on my bed spread. The bed spread I bought when I was happy, when I was that good little girl, whom everyone loved. I feel the blood seeping into a previous cut. My breathing slows, and my grip tightens on the razor blade, my life. I’m now ready to face the world, until next time.
September 22, 2011