Sinking Through the Cracks

Preparation

"Alice, is there anything that you want to tell me, or do I have to reveal my past first?"

"What?"  ask, bewildered.

"Okay.  When I was your age, I was a cutter.  I still have the scars and I look at them everyday.  I didn't think that I was enough for my family and friends, so I punished myself.  I still have to remind myself that I deserve the husband and children and life that I have.  Some days I still consider cutting again, but then I remember that I have to keep looking forward, keep looking at what's in my future and what I have to look forward to.  Life isn't easy, and I needed help, but couldn't get it.  I can be your help."  

I nod, feeling prickling at my eyes. 

"I'll show you my scars if you show me yours," she says in a quiet voice.  I watch silently as she pulls up both sleeves of her sweater.  Her scars are like mine.  They start all going the same way, horizontally, neatly.  But as the pressure inside grew, they start criss-crossing, getting messy, going any which way.  I remove my jacket and tug up both sleeves.  I run my fingers across the fresh ones, making them sting, and I relish the pain.  I glance up at her face and I see pain run across it, like I have done something wrong, something that hurt her. 

"What's your favorite animal?" she asks.

"Snakes," I say, confused.  She rifles through the bag that she bought and she pulls out a stencil of a snake.  She grabs a sharpie and places the stencil on my arm, drawing it in to my skin.  When she finishes, I stare at it.  It seems familiar, she seems familiar, and I feel comfortable around her. 

"You can't cut again until the snake fades.  You can't scrub it or get it off any way other than letting it go naturally.  If you cut before it's gone, it dies." she says, and I nod, liking her idea, not liking the prospect that she's using it on me.  She pokes her arm and I now notice the tattoo of a small flock of birds that trails almost to her wrist.  It's very pretty.

"I love birds and this tattoo was the last thing I did before I stopped cutting.  I couldn't stand the idea of ruining the tattoo, or killing a few birds.  Try to not kill your snake.  Take care of it, and take care of yourself," she says before handing me a piece of paper with a phone number.

"If you need me, call me.  I wouldn't mind meeting you again," she smiles, and leaves the auditorium.  I fold the paper and put it in my back pocket.  I stand and pull down my sleeves.  I put my jacket back on and grab my skateboard, leaving the now empty auditorium.  I get home and am greeted by my mother standing at the door, looking ready to cuss me out.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!  FIRST YOU HAVE A BOY OVER WITHOUT OUR PERMISSION THEN YOU COME HOME AFTER 3 WHEN SCHOOL ENDS AT 2 AND I JUST GOT A CALL FROM YOUR SCHOOL'S GUIDANCE COUNSELOR SAYING THAT HE WANTS US TO COME IN AND SPEAK WITH HIM!  GET TO YOUR ROOM!" and I make my way upstairs, my face burning.  I pull my phone out of my bag, not having any homework, and I find twelve missed texts from Anthony and four missed calls.  I call him back, wondering what was so important,

"Hello?"

"Hey, why did you text me a dozen times?"

"Because I was worried.  Plus, my parents want to meet you."

"Really?"

"Yeah.  When my mom heard that I had a possible detention, she came home early with the rest of my family.  Then she got home and saw how clean it was.  She knew that I must have had been trying to impress a girl.  Then I told her that I was defending you and now, both of my parents want to meet you."

"When?"

"Anytime, I guess, but my brothers will be there.  I think that they want to have dinner.  Hang on," and I hear him shouting. 

"Okay... My mom was wondering if you wanted to come over tomorrow for dinner."

"Sure," I ask and am greeted with more shouting.

"Be here for 5?  I could pick you up."

"Sure."

"OK.  I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay.  Bye."

"Bye."

I hang up, missing Anthony, and I pull up my sleeve, running my fingers over the snake on my arm.  My skin craves the release that cutting always gives me and I'm tempted to 'kill the snake'.  Instead, I go to my laptop.  I continue typing, but I quickly get stuck, my mind going back to my razor blades.  I glance around, catching my own eye in the mirror.  I stand up and look at my reflection.  I turn to the side and pull in my stomach, wanting to be skinnier.  The girl in the mirror couldn't be any more ugly.  I have no idea why Anthony like me, let alone keeps me around.  I turn another way in the mirror, starring at the parts of me that I wish I could change.  I run my fingers through my hair, adjusting in a way so that it might look pretty.  But who am I kidding?  The only person who might consider me pretty would have to be blind.  I have to be ready for my date with Anthony and his parents tomorrow.  What can I do to myself?  I sneak out of my room and into the bathroom.  I undress and take  shower.  When I finish, I step out in to the cold air and stare at my pale face in the mirror.  On a normal night, I would be pressing a razor into the clean skin on my arms now.  Instead, I rush back to my room and put on some pyjamas. I roll up my sleeve, lying on my bed, and grab a green marker.   I uncap it and carefully color in the snake on my arm.  It's sort of in loose coils around my elbow, but then it extends toward my wrist.  

I stay on my laptop until it gets pretty late.  I curl up in bed and try to fall asleep.  It takes a few hours, but eventually I driff off.  When I wake up, I can tell that the house is empty.  I sneak out of my room and toward the ktichen.  My mom is spending the weekend at a casino and my dad is at work.  He won't be home until around 6.  I decide to stay home so that I can be ready for tonight.  I go to the pantry and find a box of cake mix.  I mix the ingredients together, maing two cakes.  I let them cool while taking careful bites of a bagel.  I whip up a white frosting and am excited with the way it turns out.  When the cakes are fully cooled, I put the first one on a glass dish, one that comes with a lid and looks all fancy.  I frost it's top, putting the second one on top of it so tha tthey stick together.  I then carefully frost the outside, winging out each stroke like you see on tv.  When I finish, I must say so myself, it looked pretty high quality.  I clean eerything up and go pick out my outfit. I decide on a creme colored dress with thick straps.  It has large, black flowers on it, but they're simple.  It's slightly tight on my abdomin, but it flows out loosly to an area just above my knee.  I pair it with black and white converse and fix my makeup, applying eyeliner and a simple, pink, lipstick.  I decide to leave my hair down.  I curl the sections of my hair that appear to have lost the waviness that's everywhere else.  The last step is to find something to cover my arms.  I decide to egit something that I already have, a black shrug.  I carefully cut the back into two long strips, eaving a small section of back exposed.  I then tie the staps and roll them in a certain way that makes it alomost appear that I have two magic sleeves that bland over the dress.  I hear a knock on the door and ake a deep breath, not feeling really for what's ahead.