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       "No I don't want to go!" Taylor looked at me in disbelief."I think it'll help."

"Exactly, you think it will help but it won't and I'm not going!"

I slammed the invite on the table. It had come in the mail and I opened it because it said my name. Taylor had asked for an invite for me to go to a support group.

"Im not going."

"And Im not letting you sit--" I slammed the door to the bathroom and locked it.

------Taylor's POV-------

        I heard the door slam, then lock.

"Chris? Please, open up." I calmly asked.

"No!" I heard her sob.

"Please! No, Chris please, Don't!"

She's 17 days clean. Something like this cant ruin it.

"Come on. 17 days..." She hit the door with her foot. Her sobbing grew as I whispered to her through the door, " You'll regret this after. Its only temporary." Immediately after she screamed,

" No! Long term relief because when I look down at my scars, they show me a different battle and it calms me! So stop trying to talk me out of doing it! " I heard some thing break and I knew that she had managed to pry the blade out of a shower razor.

I knew there was no point. She would cut until there was no more space on her arms to cut anymore, then come out crying, then, depending on how deep they were, I would either take her to the hospital, or bandage them up myself.

"Chris?" When I didn't hear her answer in the next 2 minutes, I threw my self at the door, sobbing. "Chris please, No!"

Ooooo dramatic... comment what should happen next........