The Real One (Sequel to Her Only Wish)

30th Of November

          I remember the day my mom discovered my problem as if it was yesterday. It was the 30th of November, before school, around 6:30 AM. I had decided to put nail polish, but failed miserably. I couldn't find the dissolver and when my mom saw my nails she said she was going to clean them. She started cleaning my left hand, where I had almost no scars, but when she pulled my right hand I pulled it back. Wrong move– or right move depending what side you're on.

          She pulled back and saw my wrist. She asked, screaming, what they were. I didn't answer. I couldn't answer. My voice was taken away from me. She told me to wait for her in the kitchen while she called the school to say I was going to be late, very late.

            While we talked, she told me to keep looking at my wrists she said and I translate/quote 'If you aren't able to look at what you've done, how can you do it?'. She asked me if the scratching scars were self-harm, I could only nod.

          Maybe thirty minutes later, my older sister came in the kitchen. My mom told her not to say a word. As we talked, my sister understood what happened and my started to cry. I asked my mom if I could go hug my sister, but she said that my sister weren't crying because I hurt myself, but because I hadn't told her.

          Later, before my sister went to school, my mom asked her, what hurt her most about the situation.

          "Kat, if a friend were to come to you and tell you they were self-harming, what would you do?" I had asked hoping my sister would realize I was talking about myself.

          "I don't know, I think I would be there for her or him as much as I could and try to get them to tell their family." She answered without looking away from the TV.

          My sister told my mom about that day, she also said she was mad at herself for not making a connection. That day at school, all my friends asked me why I was late. I told them my mom knew.

          I remember crying all day long, but no tears were falling and I weren't sobbing, I was crying in a way that couldn't be seen or heard.

          I remember my friends being closer to me after that day.
          I remember my mom not letting me in the bathroom more than fifteen minutes after that day.
          I remember never closing my room's door after that day.

          But the thing that I will never forget is the trust that slowly came back.