You thought no one was noticing. You didn't realize that the same eyes were watching the long sleeves, desperate to know what was hiding underneath. It didn't even cross your mind that she'd noticed how much time you spent in the bathroom, the sleepless nights, and the dark circles you so desperately tried to hide. She knew your secret, but you didn't know hers.
One evening, you'd excused yourself from dinner to go to the bathroom. Lost in your own thoughts, you hadn't heard the knock on the bathroom door. You pressed the blade against your skin and created another line. Almost identical to the one above. "Mallory, are you okay in there?" the sound of her voice made you drop your blade, leaving the sound of metallic hitting porcelain. Shit, shit, shit. "Yeah, you know, that time of the month," you tried. Cordelia let out a sigh, obviously not convinced. You didn't dare to move. Not until you were sure she was gone. A sob escaped your mouth. Desperate, you tried to silence it, but before you had the time to you felt Cordelia's arm wrapped around your body, pulling you into a hug. "Oh, Mallory," was all she said. You buried your face in her chest and let the tears fall. You didn't know what to say. Your headmistress, the Supreme, Cordelia fucking Goode, just walked in on you cutting yourself. You tried to look up, but looked down again shortly after, after seeing the sorrow in her eyes. It was too much. You didn't want to cause her any pain, when you knew how to deal with it yourself. You're fucked, Mallory.
YOU ARE READING
Demons of our own.
Short StoryCordelia finds Mallory on the bathroom floor, covered in blood, with a blade beside her. It's revealed that not only Mallory has this problem. This story deals with heavy language, referenced self harm (not much) and mention of scars, so if any of t...
