We'll Come Clean

Cutting Like Knives in a Fist Fight

 P.O.V. Elle

            I can’t believe she punched me. She punched me square in the face. She took my sleeve so I was trying to get her to let go and then she just went up and punched me. All her friends did was laugh and then run away with her. I’m done. I’m done with them; I can’t go to school today.

            Instead of turning right on the sidewalk to go to school I just veer off into the woods, I know a shortcut to the park. I mean, where else can I go? There are always cops patrolling to see if kids are in school. I can’t go home, my mom is at home. I guess I’ll just sit at the park for six hours. I’m such an idiot, I can’t even think of a better plan to skip school than go to the freaking park.

            It’s only about eight and school doesn’t start until 8:30 so I decide to stop at CVS. I go inside act like I’m browsing around, really deciding what I want. Ha, I know exactly what I want. I go to the school supplies section and grab a hand held pencil sharpener. The best one they sell. I walk up to the front, paying for it.

            “Will this be all?” the clerk says

            “Yeah, that’s it” I say, with a blank look in my eyes. I pay and leave. I run to the park and go to the bike trail, it’s usually empty here and there are benches along the way. I set my stuff down on the ground and take the sharpener out of its packaging. I take a look at it, it’s a pretty yellow. I like that color. Too bad it’s going to shatter. I toss it on the concrete of the path and stomp on the thing 

            I sit down on the ground, legs crossed. I pull up my left sleeve showing fifteen or so slashes across my arm. They aren’t very deep, but are pretty red and swollen. Do I want these to heal? I’ve gone a few days without doing this, I don’t really want to kill the progress I’ve made. Oh well. I take one of the blades in between my fingers.

            Soon my fingers are covered in blood from my wrist even worse than they were from my nose. I look down at my arms, I’m a fucking failure. Look at you, Elle: The closest thing you have to a friend is your favorite band, they don’t even know who you are, much less give a shit about you. You’re getting made fun of everyday and you just got beat up. What are you ever going to amount to? Do you think you’re going to get anywhere in life? You’ll be living with your parents forever.

            I start to cry. I hope no one sees. Soon enough I’m crying loudly, at this point it doesn’t matter who even sees. I don’t care anymore. I fish in my bag for my phone and my headphones. I turn on my “Fun.” Playlist. At least I have them to look forward to in a few days! Be calm is playing and I smile a little bit. “You hate your pulse because it still thinks you’re alive.” My favorite lyric, the one that actually describes my pain. Nate understands, what if I meet him? Holy crap, that would be incredible. What would happen after that though? Probably nothing. I’ll have nothing to look forward to. Everything will go back to the way it was before. I look at the razors again, they have a shade of coppery red on them. I have an idea:

I’m going to kill myself after the concert. I’m going to kill myself in four days.