you refuse to relate, but deep down you know you do.

Four.

I'm walking through the halls of my school.

I make a sharp turn and go into the bathroom.

Opening a stall, I throw my bag down and take off my jacket.

I slide down the stall wall running my fingers on my self harm scars.

The bathroom door slams open.

There are girls speaking to one another about drama.

My name pops up, shocker.

The talking stops and a pair of footsteps are coming towards my stall.

The door swings open as I look up.

The girl looks at me holding my wrists.

Next thing you know she bursts out laughing.

"She cuts herself! What an attention seeker!"

The girls snicker and laugh.

So much for keeping it a secret.