A Cutter's Story

I Know

My legs are crisscrossed with white scar lines. I never cut my arms. I didn't want to get caught, but I did. We moved to Alabama and I made friends there easily. Melanie and me were the closest my first year there. We both cut that year, but baby cuts. God if I could go back, I would go back and change those days.

Melanie was my rock. She was my solid ground in this damned world. However, being teenaged girls, we fought and occasionally it came to blows. We grew apart over the next year and a half and I met Kirsten. She seriously became my bestfriend instantly. We became inseparable. Secrets are easier to keep when both can go down if its let out. I guess that's why I didn't tell the Kirsten cut and she didn't tell that I did. Our secrets made us stronger, like it or not. We stayed friends, and still are friends almost 3 years later. We fight about boys, but what friends don't? I would give up my life for that girl. I trust her more than anything in the world. If I was stranded on an island by myself, I would want to be stranded with her.

People judge you no matter what you in life. Cutting is something that is a big no no. How could you ruin your perfectly good skin with a blade? Shame. You must need mental help. We'll get you checked out. It's okay. Really, how could it be okay? It can't. It's not. I am laying in my bed thinking of how wrong cutting is, yet I have an itch in my hands to grab the blade and slice through my pale skin, just as I did 2 days ago.

I know cutting is wrong. No one should ever do it. I know it makes your life harder. You have to lie to people close to you and cover up the thin red lines crisscrossing your body. I know you suffer sleepless nights due to the fear of getting caught, the adrenaline rush after the cut, or the flashbacks and memories and bad thoughts replaying in your mind. I know the pain when someone accidentally grabs your fresh cuts, only trying to get your attention. I know how it feels to get a ball slammed into your leg and making the cuts bleed onto the denim of your jeans. I know all this yet I still choose to cut. I know it is wrong, but I have fresh red lines breaking up the white in my skin. I know. I don't care.

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Getting more readers is important. I know this is my first story and its slow, but stick with it. Huge thanks and kisses -K

Sorry. I know this is a spacy chapter, I guess that's just what is going on in my mind. I'm trying to give background and current situation. I haven't quite found the balance yet. I promise things will start to make more sense soon. I need to get these crazy thoughts out of my head first. follow my anon twitter @scarrednotbroke pleaseeeeee.

*names have been changed. I haven't told anyone km writing this and I don't want feelings hurt or tempers flaring.*