I stared at the ceiling counting how many white tiles there were and gave up at 53. A series of potted plants blocked my view of what was behind the glass windows on the other side of the classroom. The clock read 12:20. There were three more minutes before the bell rang. I picked up my pencil and started doodling on a margin of one of the pages in my notebook. The sound of the history teacher talking, pages turning, and pencils scratching paper filled the classroom.

     “..and those are the contributions of Ancient Rome to the modern world. Any questions? Tom?”, asked the history teacher.

That brought me back to reality. “What was the question Ms.Blue?” I asked nervously, not liking how I was the center of attention.

     Ms.Blue walked to my desk and scanned my notebook. She started to look very pale and looked at me with a very odd expression. “Tom I would like to talk to you after class.”said Ms.Blue.

     I slumped down in my seat, my feelings of embarrassment growing as I listened to the snickering of my classmates. I clutched my table so hard I thought it would break. I had already got a warning from the principle that if I got in even a little bit of trouble he would have me expelled from school. I imagined the sad expression on my parent’s face from the last time I got expelled and a queasy feeling started to form in the bottom of my stomach.

     The bell rang, the sound echoing through the whole school. Students rush for the door like a stampede until only Ms. Blue and I are left. I stare at the door five feet away from where I am, sitting anxious to open the door and rush out.

     “Tom I did not ask you to stay...” Ms. Blue started to say until Tom interrupted her.

     “Really?” I was already heading for the door. Relief flowed through me at the news that I could leave. I had other more important things to do. The word STOP resounded throughout the room stopping me in my tracks and I turned around to face her. When Ms.Blue yelled it meant she was not playing around.
“As I was saying I did not ask you to stay to lecture you over not answering the question. I asked you to stay because you have been acting strange lately and I wonder if you want to tell me anything. Like why you forged both your parent’s signatures on all the documents requiring them? I want to know why you drew such horrible pictures in your notebook.”said Ms. Blue. She held up the notebook and flipped to a random page revealing the columns of gory pictures running down the length of the page.
This was bad. How was I supposed to get myself out of this mess?“ I have been playing a lot of horror games. I’m sorry I drew the pictures. I won’t do it again. Both my parents were at work and I did not want to bother them just for a signature.” I replied, trying my best to look inconspicuous.
     “ I expect you to keep your word. This is very serious. I am going to let you go on this one, but if I ever find you doing this again it is detention for you.” said Ms. Blue as she handed his notebook to him. With twirl of her hand she dismissed me.
I exited the room without a single backward glance.

     “Tom, it is time for dinner!” shouted my mom as she finished setting the table. “ Coming!” I hollered back. My bedroom door slammed into the wall as I raced down the stairs through the living room to the kitchen. The food’s aroma teased my starved stomach. I had not had food since breakfast and I  did not eat lunch either because one of the school bullies named Hector forced me to give him my lunch money. Just imagine the scariest, ugliest, and most disrespectful kid and that is approximately how Hector looks like. I probably should tell my parents about all the pushing and name calling he has been doing to me for the last seven months, but they already had enough to worry about. Why give them more? I’ll cope. I always find a way. The dinner was great and  spending time with my mom and dad was even better. After dinner I made my way to my room and checked to see if I was alone. I had exactly fifteen minutes before mom comes down to put me to sleep. Every night I promise myself I would stop tomorrow, but it is addicting. It provides a sense of relief from the teasing, name calling, and the hurt. It is my safe haven. I reach for the knife and feel the wooden handle, the cold  metal of the blade. I had stolen this knife from the kitchen four months ago. I roll up my shirt’s right sleeve to reveal healing cuts, and scars. The first cut I make is a straight line across the wrist. The second cut is two centimeters below the first. I started to feel light headed and I realized that I had cut too deep. The cut started to bleed profusely and dripped onto the soft carpet at an alarming rate, staining it red. I collapsed onto the ground. The sound of my mother’s screams for my father to call 911 seemed far away as everything slipped into darkness.

     I woke to the sound of a doctor’s voice. “He is awake.” said a nurse standing next to me. The doctor came over. He seemed to be a nice fellow.“ Don’t move. You have lost a lot of blood. Your parents are here to see you.” he said as he opened door to let them in.
     My mother burst into tears and proceeded to scold me for worrying her so much. My father patted me carefully on the back. “ Tom we are glad that you are okay. We have found a really great group we want you to join to help you stop cutting yourself. We will figure things out together. I am sure everything will be all right.” I looked up at my parents and I knew maybe...just maybe everything will be all right.