cuts ➳ l.h.

f o u r

•lacey•

My stomach felt like it was being ripped open by vultures. Withdraw is the worst pain I've ever felt. I want my sweet escape. No. I just don't want it. I need it.

"Hey jord I'll be right back I need to use the bathroom." I say standing, up all the blood just rushing straight to my head. "You okay homie? You look really pale." She asks with concern.

"Yeah I'll be okay." I fake smile but deep down inside I know I'm not. I get up out of the cafeteria and walk to the bathroom. As soon as I get in there I throw up. I'm shaking harder than I ever have before. I knew what needed to be done and it had to be done fast.

There, on the windowsill, was a pencil sharpener. I broke it open and cleaned the blade. I made three slits going up the road not across. I start to cry and shake.

I'm probably going to be anemic by the time I'm 28 and I won't be able to enjoy my life. "Oh my god there's so much blood." Was the last thing I heard myself say before I blacked out

Death. Death was all I could imagine. I had to be dead. I could still hear but all I heard was silence. No one cared. No one heard me collapse. It was just me. Me alone.

I lied there lifeless like a fallen tree in a forest just waiting for the other animals to feed on my decomposing life form. I have heard that cutting up the road will in fact kill you. But I didn't care. I got my thrill. By now I could imagine puddles and pools, even oceans of my blood filling the empty spaces around me.

My eyelids fluttered for a bit before I could see a white celling and hear a beeping sound. I jumped up quick and realized exactly where I was. "No no no no! Why? No I can't be here!" I yelled to myself. I pressed the button beside my bed to summon the doctor or nurse. I needed to get out of here.

"Ah Lacey your awake. How are you feeling?" A strange man in a white lab coat asked me. "I'm feeling fine. Can I leave now?" I inquire with attitude and cross my arms over my chest.

"You can leave when an authority picks you up. We've called your mother and your father. They both seem busy with their jobs." He states with a concerned voice.

"Yeah. They're too busy to pick up their own damn daughter." I say and look out the window to the other hospital rooms. I've always hated hospitals. My grandmother died in this one. What joy.

"I'm sorry then we can't release you." He declares. "Dude, I'm eighteen. Why can't I just sign the damn papers and leave." I furiously explain. "You're only 17 according to our papers. What year were you born?" He asks looking over his records again.

"1997"

"Impossible!"

"It's not I was born January 6, 1997!"

"Well if you really are eighteen sign this paper work and you're free but I have to go over a few medical conditions with you." He says handing me a clip board.

I was shaking. My hand was pale and I could see every vain through my hand. "What's wrong with me?" I asked scared of my own self.

"Lacey we have noticed that you have only been consuming liquids. We found no food in your stomach. We have diagnosed you with the eating disorder anorexia. I'm so sorry Lacey." He sympathetically tells me.

"I'm not anorexic. I'm perfectly okay." I quiver. I knew I was anorexic but I convinced my self I wasn't.

"We also found you have low blood levels. We have also diagnosed you with anemia." He says putting the clip board on my lap to show me the results.