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She stared at herself in the mirror. She hated it.

Sometimes, she felt fat while sometimes, she felt extremely anorexic. She took her clothes off and opened her cabinet.

Her pale complexion made her look like a corpse living among humans. And she would stop and ask, maybe I am?

Because everyday, there is a new scar. A scar to prove that something did happen. They prove who a person is and how strong that person is.

She propped open a bottle of numbing agent and pain killers. Swallowed them whole with a glass of water and put them back to place.

In a hidden compartment, she pulled out a butterfly knife. The silver blade caught her reflection perfectly.

Silently, without feeling anything, she dug the knife into her wrist, opening a new scar beside another one. The red liquid cascaded beautifully from the wound.

She didn't feel anything. She only felt numb.

She stared at her other scars. She joked, if I had these many scars, I can have the largest collection of them. Who knows? I might be in the World Guineas Book of Records.

She mentally laughed.

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