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Chapter Three: Help me

Get me out of here, I thought as I sat in class with my head down, tears falling quietly down my cheeks.

-"Emma? Are you alright? Tired, yeah?" A voice next to me says.

It's the teacher.

Shit. I silently curse, wipe my tears with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, and force a laugh.

-"Nah just sleepy!" I say, smiling, and avoiding any eye contact.

Am I just seeking attention? Am I bipolar? Am I depressed? WHAT is wrong with me?

Fast forward to a couple of hours later

Sitting in the empty bathtub, pretending to be having a shower, razor in hand.

My fingers slowly run over my thighs. I press the razor to my skin, hard, and I cut. Tears are streaming down my face. I deserve every inch of this. I cut, deeper this time, and I keep doing it over and over again.

Thirty cuts later, my thighs are bleeding like crazy, and my brain is filled with feelings of guilt. I barely got rid of my old cuts. Why am I going back to my old habits? WHY? My hands are trembling, and the space around me is full of blood.

I grab a bottle of rubbing alcohol and try to apply it to the cuts on my skin, but my thighs are already in agony, and I wince.

I force myself to finish what I started, then I shower, and I cry.

By the time I'm done showering, my eyes are swollen. I walk to my bedroom with my head down, I dress up quickly, making sure to wear long pants, and I go to sleep. It's only 9:30PM, but I don't want to face reality anymore.

I text my friend who's studying abroad, but she gets too worried, and a feeling of guilt washes over me as I try to fall asleep through the pain in my thighs and the roaring in my ears. And I do. Almost one hour of sobbing later.

Next day

I wake up a bit later than I had intended to. I quickly pack my bag and get dressed. I didn't do my homework.

Once I arrive at school, people bump into me, as usual, but it's different this time. I can feel my thighs start to bleed again when somebody bumps into me, but I keep walking to my class with a body trembling with pain.

-"Essays in front of you, everyone. 50% of your mark for this semester is on this essay. And I WILL find out if you cheated off of Wikipedia.."

I reach into my bag and pull my file out, and absent-mindedly start searching for the essay, and then it hits me. I didn't do ANY of my homework.

-"Emma! Where's your essay?"

I mumble some words of explanation. Lies, of course. I cannot tell anyone else about yesterday. And the teacher starts yelling. My eyes well up with tears that don't fall, but definitely make my eyes red.

I go back to trembling.

And then I start yelling. A piercing scream that came out of nowhere. All of my pain, my anger. All that guilt.. It all causes me to yell even more. I can hear the roaring in my ears more than anything else.

Everybody seems to be silent. Even the teacher. Everybody is staring, as if somebody paused this specific minute.

I fall to my knees and notice that all that bleeding is actually showing. I gasp and go silent for a horrible ten seconds. I look up, right into my teacher's eyes, and see the shock and disappointment in her eyes, just like I predicted.

For a while, nobody moves. Everyone is busy staring, and then.. I mumble an apology and walk, head down, to the bathroom, with everyone still staring, and the teacher's voice, much kinder this time, telling me to wait..

But I do not wait.