See, the mistake I had made was thinking the knife would save me and distract me from all the pain caused by him.... As I sat there, staring at the blood-soaked blade, I realized that maybe this might be the answer. As it sliced me deeper and deeper, I felt no pain, yet the tears that flowed down the side of my face said otherwise. The blade cut through my flesh like butter, leaving a trail of crimson. It was as if the knife had a mind of its own, seeking out the source of my suffering and attempting to eradicate it. I need to get his mistakes off my mind. It was never my fault, and it never will be. At least, that's what Dr. Faris tells me and insists on it. But the truth is, I can't shake off the guilt that's been weighing me down. The knife in my hand reminds me of what I've done and what I could have done differently. But as much as I try to resist its pull, a part of me wants to give in. To let the knife do its work and finally put an end to this endless cycle of pain and regret. The bathroom floor is comforting. Its tiles are always cold, no matter how long I sit on them. It's a quiet escape from the chaos of the outside world. The tiles' coolness against my skin reminds me to slow down and take a breath. They need to be cleaned. I can tell from the yellowish tint that has started to form over the last six months since I started living here. The sound of running water from the sink is soothing, and I take comfort in knowing that everything will be okay. Eventually, I'll have to get up and face reality once again, but for now, this bathroom floor is where I belong. But as I watched the blood spill from my wounds, I realized that this was not the answer. The pain may have been momentarily numbed, but it would always return. And so I let go of the knife, letting it clatter to the ground, blood splattering on the ground, as I embraced my emotions. The tears flowed freely now, a release of all the hurt and anger that had been building inside me for so long. Dr. Faris may say that it's not my fault, but deep down, I know that I played a part in all of this. And until I can find a way to forgive myself, the knife will continue to haunt me, tempting me with its deadly whispering. I knew that this was only the beginning of my journey towards healing. But for now, it was enough to know that I had taken it.
