My Freedom

November 14, 2011
By Anonymous

I feel the edge of the sharp blade digging into my skin, ready to move in the direction my hand pulls it in. My hand presses down and slowly drags my new found friend across my arm. The sharpness of pain somehow brings me comfort. Slowly I pull the blade away from my arm and wait. Wait for the thick, red, blood to come pouring out of the wound. Seeing my blood trickle slowly down my arm brings me to a level of peace that I have never felt before. I must have more. I slice into my arm several more tines until my arm and the water in the sink is stained a bright red. I clean off the blade and hide it in a safe place where I can get to it quickly but where no one else can find it.

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