Mystery Girl

Wounds

Mystery girl's POV: I am holding the picture tight as I let the grief overwhelm me. I do not fight it I feel it taking control. I can feel the pain as sharp as a knife. Then I feel the grief give way to anger. It is taking control. I clinch my fists until my knuckles turn white. I calm down and place the picture back on my bedside table. I walk over to my closet which is locked and I undo the lock. I open the closet and stare at the armor set and a sword. I pick up the sword. I hold the sword until the grief is to much for me to handle. I put it back quickly and shut the door to the closet my back against it I am breathing fast my I can hear my heart beat. I slid down to the floor and sit there for what seems like forever. I stand up and walk to my bed and sit on the edge of it and open a hidden drawer on the side of my bed side table and pull out a knife. It is a relic from my past full of memories and not all of them good. It was given to me as a present and I have kept it ever since. I run my finger along the edge of the blade cleaning off the dust. At first I feel nothing, but as I pull my finger away I see blood coming out of a cut on my finger and I suddenly feel the wound stinging. I feel myself smiling after all these years the blade is still as sharp as the day it was given to me. I put the knife back in the drawer somehow it does not have a single drop of blood on it and I clean the cut and put a bandage on it. The cut will be healed in a few days time. By the time I go to the party it will be like it was never even there. It is a good thing I was not applying pressure to the knife or it would be a different story. Suddenly my emotions lose the control they had which was not much, but still . . . I walk over to the calendar. It is only a few days till the party. I need to learn to keep control of my emotions. I need to learn to forgive and forget, but I can't forgive and I can't forget. I can keep my emotions in check, but sometimes when I look at the armor set, the sword, and the knife I just lose control and either sadness or anger takes over. I can look at the picture and feel guilt and grief like knives piercing my flesh. They took him from me and I feel like there was something I could do to stop them. Sometimes I think the guilt and the grief hurt worse than any wound. . .  Sometimes I think they are the wounds.  

Why does she have an armor set and a sword and what about the knife? Why does she fell guilt and grief when she looks at the picture. Who are "they" What does she mean by they took him from me? And why does she think there is something she could do to stop them?