Knives and Red Shoes

Chapter 2

I got an F on my test, that's one. We had to run in P.E,that's two. Lauren was absent,that's three. I grab to knife to slit my wrists three times.
Who knew I was so good at math! With every moment that was bad in the day, blood was being drawn. Besides pain, I enjoy gymnastics. I decided to cover the scar with a band-aid then head outside. I did gymnastics for a while, but it wasn't enjoyable for some reason.
I headed back inside, marched up the stairs into my room. Then I put a rubber band on my unslit wrist. I pulled as far as I could, then let go. "Ow," I said . Since it was a new way to hurt myself, and a weapon to carry everywhere, I had to get used to the pain.
The next day the sound of my alarm clock woke me up. I dressed in distressed tights and a blouse. After, I put the rubber bands back on my wrist. After breakfast I headed back to my room. I grabbed the knife nearest. Cut one, cut two, cut three. Three minutes later there was sixteen scars left on my arm. Blood dripped onto my desk.
I grabbed a sweater then headed down the stairs. Before I could walk out the door, there was a voice. It was my dad's annoying voice bickering.
"Why is there blood dripping all on the kitchen floor," my dad questioned as I slowly turned around with fear in my eyes.
"I don't know. Why is the sky blue," I asked sarcastically.
"I don't like your tone,now answer me ," my father demanded.
"I fell on a nail this morning and my hand is cut, but it's not a big deal," I exclaimed."Now if you excuse me I would like to head to school," I said as I stormed out of the door."Why does he care?" "Why does he start now," I kept asking myself. It made no sense at all!
I felt a tiny bit of blood trickle down my arm, and it felt weird. I got to school. The one place where I couldn't hurt myself. The rest of the day, let's just say, I'm going to have a lot of counting to do.